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A TOUR 



ON 

THE PKAIEIES 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



NEW YORK : 

fHE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
Nos. 78-76 Walker Street. 



mTEODUOTIOR 






Having since my return to the United States, made a wide 
and varied tour for the gi-atification of my curiosity, it has 
been supposed that I did it for the purpose of writing a book • 
and It has more than once been intimated in the papers, that 
such a work was actuaUy in the press, containing scenes and 
sketches of the Far West. 

These announcements, gratuitously made for me, before I 
lad put pen to paper, or even contemplated any thing of the 
einbarrassed me exceedingly. I have been like a 
himself announced for a part he had no 
thought of playing, and his appearance expected on the stage 
before he has committed a hne to memory. ® 

^hilSr % repugnance, amounting almost to dis- 

ability, to write m the face of expectation; and, in the present 
mstance, I was expected to write about a region fruitful of 

tir?he?nr f"" ^een made 

1 ? T narratives from able pens; yet 

about which I had notlnng wonderful or adventurous to offer 

and to be the desire of the public,' 

and t^t they take sufficient interest in my wanderings to 

noS T ^ prompt? as 

possible, to mee^ in some degree, the expectation which others 

have excited ^r this purpose, I have, as it were, plucke^a 

“®“orandum book, containing Lionth’s 

nesTof TJ" w"" habitation, into the wilder- 

^f an if ®ar West It forms, indeed, but a smaU portion 
an extensiTO tour; but it is an episode, complete as far as it 

It Ts a siiSife’ i great diffidence. 

haninf77^ narrative of every-day occurrences; such as 

nSie andi;t“Ti,^“^ accidents by flood or field to 

. ai rate and as to those who look for a marvellous or adven- 

. turous story at my hands, I can only reply, in the words of 

aodblessVou,Ihavenone 



937384 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

Introduction 5 

I. The Pawnee Hunting Grounds— Travelling Companions— A Commis- 
sioner— A Virtuoso— A Seeker of Adventures— A Gil Bias of the 
Frontier— A Young Man’s Anticipations of Pleasm*e 7 

II. Anticipations Disappointed— New Plans— Preparations to Join an Ex- 
ploring Party— Departure from Fort Gibson— Fording of the Ver- 
digris— An Indian Cavalier 10 

ni. An Indian Agency— Riflemen— Osages, Creeks, Trappers, Dogs, Horses, 

Half-breeds— Beatte, the Huntsman 13 

IV. The Departure 16 

V. Frontier Scenes— A Lycurgus of the Border— Lynch’s Law— The 

Danger of Finding a Horse- The Young Osage 17 

VI. Trail of the Osage Hunters— Departure of the Count and his Party— A 

Deserted War-Camp— A Vagrant Dog — The Encampment 21 

VII. News of the Rangers— The Count and his Indian Squire— Halt in the 
Woods— Woodland Scene— Osage Village— Osage Visitors at our 
Evening Camp 23 

VIH. The Honey Camp 28 

IX. A Bee Hunt 30 

X. Amusements in the Camp— Consultations— Hunters’ Fare and Feast- 
ing — Evening Scenes— Camp Melody —The Fate of an Amateur Owl. 23 

XI. Breaking up of the Encampment— Picturesque March— Game— Camp 
Scenes— Triumph of a Young Hunter— 111 Success of an Old Hunter 
— Foul Murder of a Pole Cat 37 

XII. The Crossing of the Arkansas 42 

XIII. The Camp of the Glen— Camp Gossip— Pawnees and their Habits— A 

Hunter’s Adventure— Horses found and Men Lost 44 

XrV. Deer Shooting — Life on the Prairies — Beautiful Encampment — Hunter’s 

Luck— Anecdotes of the Delavvares and their Superstitions 50 

XV. The Search for the Elk— Pawnee Stories 



4 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER ^ PAGE 



XVI. A Sick Camp— The March— The Disabled Horse— Old Ryan and the 
Stragglers — Symptoms of change of Weather and change of 
Humors 59 

XVH. Thunder-storm on the Prairies — The Storm Encampment — Night 

Scene— Indian Stories— A Frightened Horse 63 

XVin. A Grand Prairie — Cliff Castle — Buffalo Tracks— Deer Hunted by 

Wolves— Cross Timber 66 

XIX. Hunter’s Anticipations— The Rugged Ford— A Wild Horse 69 

XX. The Camp of the Wild Horse— Hunters’ Stories— Habits of the Wild 
Horse — The Half-breed and his Prize — A Horse Chase — A Wild Spirit 
Tamed 72 

XXI. The Fording of the Red Fork— The Dreary Forests of the “Cross 

Timber’ ’ — Buffalo I 77 

XXII . The Alarm Camp 80 

XXin. Beaver Dam — Buffalo and Horse Tracks — A Pawnee Trail — Wild 

Horses— The Young Hunter and the Bear— Change of Route 86 

XXIV. Scarcity of Bread— Rencontre with Buffaloes— Wild Turkeys— Fall of a 

Buffalo Bull 89 

XXV. Ringing the Wild Horse 92 

XXVI. Fording of the North Fork— Dreary Scenery of the Cross Timber- 
Scamper of Horses in the Night— Osage War Party— Effects of a 
Peace Harangue— Buffalo— Wild Horse 95 

XXVH. Foul Weather Encampment — Anecdotes of Bear Hunting — Indian 

Notions about Omens— Scruples respecting the Dead 98 

XXVIII. A Secret Expedition— Deer Bleating — Magic Bells 105 

XXIX. The Grand Prairie — A Buffalo Hunt 108 

XXX. A Comrade Lost — A Search for the Camp — Commissioner, the Wild 

Horse, and the Buffalo— A Wolf Serenade 115 

XXXI. A Hunt for a Lost Comrade 117 

XXXII. A Republic of Prairie Dogs 121 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE PAWNEE HUNTING GROUNDS. — TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.- 
A COMMISSIONER. — A VIRTUOSO.— A SEEKER OF ADVENTURES. 
— A GIL BLAS OP THE FRONTIER.— A YOUNG MAN’S ANTICIPA' 
TIONS OF PLEASURE. 

In the often vaunted regions of the Far West, several hun- 
dred miles beyond the Mississippi, extends a vast tract of un- 
inhabited country, where there is neither to be seen the log- 
house of the white man, nor the v/igwam of the Indian. It 
consists of great grassy plains, interspersed with forests and 
groves, and clumps of trees, and watered by the Arkansas, the 
grand Canadian, the Eed Eiver, and their tributary streams. 
Over these fertile and verdant wastes still roam the elk, the 
buffalo, and the wild horse, in all their native freedom. These, 
in fact, are the hunting grounds of the various tribes of the 
Far West. Hither repair the Osage, the Creek, the Delaware 
and other tribes that have linked themselves with civilization, 
and live within the vicinity of the white se*' tlements. Here 
resort also, the Pawnees, the Cornanches, n ad other fierce, 
and as yet independent tribes, the nomads ol the prairies, oi 
the inhabitants of the skirts of the Eocky I fountains. The 
regions I have mentioned form a debatable ground of these 
warring and vindictive tribes ; none of them presume to erect 
a permanent habitation within its borders. Their hunters 
and “Braves” repair thither in numerous bodies during the 
season of game, throw up their transient hunting camps, con- 
sisting of light bowers covered with bark and skins, commit 
sad havoc among the innumerable herds that graze the prairies, 
and having loaded themselves with Yenison and buffalo meat, 
warily retire from the dangerous neighborhood. These expe- 
ditions partake, always, of a warlike character; the hunters 



8 



A TOVR ON THE PBAIBIES. 



are all armed for action, offensive and defensive, and are bound 
to incessant vigilance. Should they, in their excursions, meet 
the hunters of an adverse tribe, savage conflicts take place. 
Their encampments, too, are always subject to be surprised 
by wandering war parties, and their hunters, when scattei ed 
in pursuit of game, to be captured or massacred by lui'king 
foes. Mouldering skulls and skeletons, bleaching in some darlr 
ravine, or near the traces of a hunting camp, occasionally mark 
the scene of a foregone act of blood, and let the wanderer kno'v^^ 
the dangerous nature of the region he is traversing. It is 
the purport of the following pages to narrate a month’s ex- 
cursion to these noted hunting grounds, through a tract of 
country which had not as yet been explored by white men. 

It was early in October, 1832, that I arrived at Fort Gibson, 
a frontier post of the Far West, situated on the Neosho, or 
Grand River, near its confluence with the Arkansas. I had 
been travelling for a month past, with a small party from St. 
Louis, up the banks of the Missouri, and along the frontier 
line of agencies and missions that extends from the Missouri 
to the Arkansas. Our party was headed by one of the Com- 
missioners appointed by the government of the United States, 
to superintend the settlement of the Indian tribes migrating 
from the east to the west of the Mississippi. In the discharge 
of his duties, he was thus visiting the various outposts of civili- 
zation. 

And here let me bear testimony to the merits of this worthy 
leader of our little band. He was a native of one of the towns 
of Connecticut, a man in whom a course of legal practice and 
political life had not been able to vitiate an innate simplicity 
and benevolence of heart. The greater part of his days had 
been passed in the bosom of his family and the society of dea- 
cons, elders, and selectmen, on the peaceful banks of the Con- 
necticut; when suddenly he had been called to mount his 
steed, shoulder his rifle, and mingle among stark hunters, 
backwoodsmen, and naked savages, on the trackless wilds of 
the Far West. 

Another of my fellow-travellers was Mr. L., an Englishman 
by birth, but descended from a foreign stock; and who had all 
the buoyancy and accommodating spirit of a native of the 
Continent. Having rambled over many countries, he had be- 
come, to a certain degree, a citizen of the world, easily adapt- 
ing himself to any change. He was a man of a thousand 
occupations; a botanist, a geologist, a hunter of beetles and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



3 



butterflies, a musical amateur, a sketcher of no mean preten- 
sions, in short, a complete virtuoso ; added to which, he was a 
very indefatigable, if not always a very successful, sportsman. 
Never had a man more irons in the fire, and, consequently, 
never was man more busy nor more cheerful. 

My third fellow-traveller was one who had accompanied the 
former from Europe, and travelled with him as his Teiema- 
chus ; being apt, like his prototype, to give occasional perplex- 
ity and disquiet to liis Mentor. He was a young Swiss Count, 
scarce twenty-one years of age, full of talent and spirit, but 
galliard in the extreme, and prone to every kind of wild ad- 
venture. 

Having made this mention of my comrades, I must not pass 
over unnoticed, a personage of inferior rank, but of all-per- 
vading and prevalent importance: the squire, the groom, the 
cook, the tent man, in a word, the factotum, and, I may add, 
the universal meddler and marplot of our party. This was a 
little swarthy, meagre, French creole, named Antoine, but 
familiarly dubbed Tonish : a kind of Gil Bias of the frontier, 
who had passed a scrambling life, sometimes among white 
men, sometimes among Indians ; sometimes in the employ ot 
traders, missionaries, and Indian agents ; sometimes mingling 
with the Osage hunters. We picked him up at St. Louis, near 
which he had a small farm, an Indian wife, and a brood of 
half-blood children. According to his o^vn account, however, 
he had a wife in every tribe ; in fact, if all this little vagabond 
said of himself were to be believed, he was without morals, 
without caste, without creed, without country, and even with- 
out language; for he spoke a jargon of mingled French, En- 
glish, and Osage. He was, withal, a notorious braggart, and a 
liar of the first water. It was amusing to hear him vapor and 
gasconade about his terrible exploits and hairbreadth escapes 
in war and hunting. In the midst of his volubility, he was 
prone to be seized by a spasmodic gasping, as if the springs 
of his jaws were suddenly unhinged; but I am apt to think it 
was ca-used by some falsehood that stuck in his throat, for I 
generally remarked that immediately afterward there bolted 
forth a lie of the first magnitude. 

Our route had been a pleasant one, quartering ourselves, oc- 
casionally, at the widely separated establishments of the Indian 
missionaries, but in general camping out in the fine groves 
that border the streams, and sleeping under cover of a tent. 
During the latter part of our tour we had pressed forward, in 



10 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



hopes of arriving in time at Fort Gibson to accompany the 
Osage hunters on their autumnal visit to the buffalo prairies. 
Indeed the imagination of the young Count had become com- 
pletely excited on the subject. The grand scenery and wild 
habits of the prairies had set his spirits madding, and the 
stories that little Tonish told him of Indian braves and Indian 
beauties, of hunting buffaloes and catching wild horses, had 
set him all agog for a dash into savage life. He was a bold 
and hard rider, and longed to be scouring the hunting grounds. 
It was amusing to hear his youthful anticipations of all that 
he was to see, and do, and enjoy, when mingling among the 
Indians and participating in their hardy adventures ; and it 
was still more amusing to listen to the gasconadings of little 
Tonish, who volunteered to be his faithful squire in all his 
perilous undertakings; to teach him how to catch the wild 
horse, bring* down the buffalo, and win the smiles of Indian 
princesses; — ‘‘And if we can only get sight of a prairie on 
fire!” said the young Count — “ By Gar, I’ll set one on fire my- 
self 1” cried the little Frenchman. 



CHAPTER II. 

4NTICIPATIONS DISAPPOINTED. — NEW PLANS. —PREPARATIONS TO 

JOIN AN EXPLORING PARTY. — DEPARTURE FROM FORT GIBSON. 

—FORDING OF THE VERDIGRIS. — AN INDIAN CAVALIER. 

The anticipations of a young man are prone to meet with 
disappointment. Unfortunately for the Count’s scheme of 
wild campaigning, before we reached the end of our journey, 
we heard that the Osage hunters had set forth upon their ex- 
pedition to the buffalo grounds. The Count still determined, 
if possible, to follow on their track and overtake them, and for 
this purpose stopped short at the Osage Agency, a few miles 
distant from Fort Gibson, to make inquiries and preparations. 
His travelling companion, Mr. L., stopped with him; while the 
Commissioner and myself proceeded to Fort Gibson, followed 
by the faithful and veracious Tonish. I hinted to him his 
promises to follow the Count in his campaignings, but I found 
the little varlet had a keen eye to self-interest. He was aware 
that the Commissioner, from his official duties, would remain 



A TOUR ON Tim PRAIRIES. 



11 



for a long time in the country, and be likely to give him perma- 
nent employment, while the sojourn of the Count would be 
hut transient. The gasconading of the little braggart was 
suddenly therefore at an end. He spake not another word to 
the young Count about Indians, buffaloes, and wild horses, 
but putting himself tacitly in the train of the Commissioner, 
Jogged silently after us to the garrison. 

On arriving at the fort, however, a new chance presented 
itself for a cruise on the prairies. We learnt that a company 
of mounted rangers, or riflemen, had departed but three days 
previous to make a wide exploring tour from the Arkansas to 
the Red River, including a part of the Pawnee hunting grounds 
where no party of white men had as yet penetrated. Here, 
then, was an opportunity of ranging over those dangerous and 
interesting regions under the safeguard of a powerful escort ; 
for the Commissioner, in virtue of his office, could claim the 
service of this newly raised corps of riflemen, and the country 
they were to explore was destined for the settlement of some 
of the migrating tribes connected with his mission. 

Our plan was promptly formed and put into execution. A 
couple of Creek Indians were sent off express, by the com- 
mander of Fort Gibson, to overtake the rangers and bring 
them to a halt until the Commissioner and his party should 
be able to join them. As we should have a march of three 
or four days through a wild country before we could over- 
take the company of rangers, an escort of fourteen mounted 
riflemen, under the command of a lieutenant, was assigned us. 

We sent word to the young Count and Mr. L. at the Osage 
Agency, of our new plan and prospects, and invited them to 
accompany us. The Count, however, could not forego the de- 
lights he had promised himself in mingling with absolutely 
savage life. In reply, he agreed to keep with us until we 
should come upon the trail of the Osage hunters, when it was 
his fixed resolve to strike off into the wilderness in pursuit of 
them ; and his faithful Mentor, though he grieved at the mad- 
ness of the scheme, was too stanch a friend to desert him. A 
general rendezvous of our party and escort was appointed, for 
the following morning, at the Agency. 

We now made all arrangements for prompt departure. Our 
baggage had hitherto been transported on a light wagon, but we 
were now to break our way through an untravelled country, 
cut up by rivers, ravines, and thickets, where a vehicle of the 
kind would be a complete impediment. We were to travel on 



12 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



horseback, in hunter’s style, and with as little encumbrance as 
possible. Our baggage, therefore, underwent a rigid and most 
abstemious reduction. A pair of saddle-bags, and those by no 
means crammed, sufficed for each man’s scanty wardrobe, and, 
v/ith his great coat, were to be carried upon the steed he rode, 
h'he rest of the baggage was placed on pack-horses. Each 
one had a bear-skin and a couple of blankets for bedding, and 
lihere was a tent to shelter us in case of sickness or bad 
weather. We took care to provide ourselves with flour, coffee, 
and sugar, together with a small supply of salt pork for emer- 
gencies; for our main subsistence we were to depend upon the 
chase. 

Such of our horses as had not been tired out in our recent 
journey, were taken with us as pack-horses, or supernumera- 
ries; but as we were going on a long and rough tour, v/here 
there would be occasional hunting, and where, in case of meet- 
ing with hostile savages, the safety of the rider might depend 
upon the goodness of liis steed, we took care to be well 
mounted. I procured a stout silver-gray; somewhat rough, 
but stanch and powerful ; and retained a hardy pony which I 
had hitherto ridden, and which, being somewhat jaded, was 
suffered to ramble along with the pack-horses, to be mounted 
only in case of emergency. 

All these arrangements being made, we left Fort Gibson, on 
the morning of the tenth of October, and crossing the river in 
front of it, set off for the rendezvous at the Agency. A ride of 
a few miles brought us to the ford of the Verdigris, a wild 
rocky scene overhung with forest trees. We descended to the 
bank of the river and crossed in straggling file, the horses 
stepping cautiously from rock to rock, and in a manner feeling 
about for a foothold beneath the rushing and brawling stream. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonish, brought up the rear with the 
pack-horses. He was in high glee, having experienced a kind 
of promotion. In our journey hitherto he had driven the 
wagon, which he seemed to consider a very inferior employ ; 
now he was master of the horse. 

He sat perched like a monkey behind the pack on one of the 
horses ; he sang, he shouted, he yelped like an Indian, and ever 
and anon blasphemed the loitering pack-horses in his jargon of 
mingled French, English, and Osage, which not one of them 
could understand. 

As we were crossing the ford we saw on the opposite shore a 
Creek Indian on horseback. He had paused to reconnoitre us 



A TOUn ON THE PRAIRIES, 



13 



from the brow of a rock, and formed a picturesque object, in 
unison with the Avild scenery around him. He wore a bright 
blue hunting-shirt trimmed with scarlet fringe; a gayly col- 
ored handkerchief was bound round his head something like a 
turban, with one end hanging down beside his ear ; he held a 
long rifle in his hand, and looked like a wild Arab on the 
prowl. Our loquacious and ever-meddling little Frenchman 
called out to him m his Babylonish jargon, but the savage hav* 
ing satisfied his curiosity tossed his hand in the air, turned the 
head of his steed, and galloping along the shore soon disap- 
peared among the trees. 



CHAPTER III. 

AN INDIAN AGENCY.— RIFLEMEN.— OSAGES, CREEKS, TRAPPERS, 
DOGS, HORSES, HALF-BREEDS.— BE ATTE, THE HUNTSMAN. 

Having crossed the ford, we soon reached the Osage Agency, 
where Col. Choteau has his oflices and magazines, for the de- 
spatch of Indian affairs, and the distribution of presents and 
supplies. It consisted of a few log houses on the banks of the 
river, and presented a motley frontier scene. Here was our 
escort awaiting our arrival; some were on horseback, some on 
foot, some seated on the trunks of fallen trees, some shooting 
at a mark. They were a heterogeneous crew ; some in frock- 
coats made of green blankets; others in leathern hunting- 
shirts, but the most part in marvellously ill-cut garments, 
much the worse for wear, and evidently put on for ragged ser- 
vice. 

Near by these was a group of Osages: stately fellows; stem 
and simple in garb and aspect. They wore no ornaments; 
their dress consisted merely of blankets, leggings, and mocca- 
sons. Their heads were bare ; their hair was cropped close, ex- 
cepting a bristling ridge on the top, like the crest of a nelmet, 
Avith a long scalp-lock han^ng behind. They had fine Roman 
countenances, and broad deep chests; and, as they generally 
wore their blankets wrapped round their loins, so as to leave 
the bust and arms bare, they looked like so many noble bronze 
figures. The Osages are the finest looking Indians I have ever 
seen in the West. They have not yielded sufficiently, ae yet to 



14 



A TOUR ON TRR PR AIRIES. 



the influence of civilization to lay by their simple Indian garb, 
or to lose the habits of the hunter and the warrior; and theit 
poverty prevents their indulging in much luxury of apparel. 

In contrast to these was a gayly dressed party of Creeks. 
There is something, at the first glance, quite oriental in the 
appearance of this tribe. They dress in calico hunting shirts, 
of various brilliant colors, decorated with bright fringes, and 
belted with broad girdles, embroidered with beads ; they have 
leggings of dressed deer skins, or of green or scarlet cloth, with 
embroidered knee-bands and tassels ; their moccasons are fan- 
cifully wrought and ornamented, and they wear gaudy hand- 
kerchiefs tastefully bound round their heads. 

Besides these, there was a sprinkling of trappers, hunters, 
half-breeds, creoles, negroes of every hue; and all that other 
rabble rout of nondescript beings that Tieep about the fron- 
tiers, between civilized and savage life, as those equivocal 
birds, the bats, hover about the confines of light and darkness. 

The httle hamlet of the Agency was in a complete bustle; 
the blacksmith’s shed, in particular, was a scene of prepara- 
tion ; a strapping negro was shoeing a horse ; two half-breeds 
were fabricating iron spoons in which to melt lead for bullets. 
An old trapper, in leathern hunting frock and moccasons, had 
placed his rifle against a work-bench, while he superintended 
the operation, and gossiped about his hunting exploits ; 
several large dogs were lounging in and out of the shop, or 
sleeping in the sunshine, while a little cur, with head cocked 
on one side, and one ear erect, was watching, with that curi- 
osity common to little dogs, the process of shoeing the horse, 
as. if studying the art, or waiting for his turn to be shod. 

We found the Count and his companion, the Virtuoso, ready 
for the march. As they intended to overtake the Osages, and 
pass some time in hunting the buffalo and the wild horse, they 
had provided themselves accordingly; having, in addition to 
the steeds which they used for travelling, others of prime 
quality, which were to be led when on the march, and only to 
be mounted for the chase. 

They had, moreover, engaged the services of a young man 
named Antoine, a half-breed of French and Osage origin. He 
was to be a kind of Jack-of-all-work ; to cook, to hunt, and to 
take care oi the horses ; but he had a vehement propensity to 
do nothing, being one of the worthless brood engendered and 
brought up among the missions. He was, moreover, a httle 
spoiled by being reaUy a handsome young fellow, an Adonis of 



A TO Ull ON TEE PRAIRIES. 



15 



the frontier, and still worse by fancying himself highly con- 
nected, \Ms sister being concubine to an opulent white trader ! 

For our own parts, the Commissioner and myself were de- 
sirous, before setting out, to procure another attendant well 
versed in woodcraft, who might serve us as a hunter; for our 
little Frenchman would have his hands full when in camp, in 
cooking, and on the march, in taking care of the pack-horses. 
Such an one presented himself, or rather was recommended to 
us, in Pierre Beatte, a half-breed of French and Osage paren- 
tage. We were assured that he was acquainted with all parts 
of the country, having traversed it in all directions, both 
in hunting and war parties ; that he would be of use both as 
guide and interpreter, and that he was a first-rate hunter. 

I confess I did not like his looks when he was first presented 
to me. He was lounging about, in an old hunting frock and 
metasses or leggings, of deer skin, soiled and greased, and 
almost japanned by constant use. He was apparently about 
thirty-six years of age, square and strongly built. His fea- 
tures were not bad, being shaped not unlike those of Napo- 
leon, but sharpened up, with high Indian cheek-bones. 

Perhaps the dusky greenish hue of his complexion, aided his 
resemblance to an old bronze bust I had seen of the Emperor. 
He had, however, a sullen, saturnine expression, set off by a 
slouched woollen hat, and elf locks that hung about his ears. 

Such was the appearance of the man, and his manners were 
equally unprepossessing. He was cold and laconic ; made no 
promises or professions ; stated the terms he required for the 
services of himself and his horse, which we thought rather 
high, but showed no disposition to abate them, nor any 
anxiety to secure our employ. He had altogether more of 
the red than the white man in his composition ; and, as I had 
been taught to look upon all half-breeds with distrust, as an 
uncertain and faithless race, I would gladly have dispensed 
v/ith the services of Pierre Beatte. We had no time, however, 
to look out for any one more to our taste, and had to make an 
arrangement with him on the spot. He then set about making 
his preparations for the journey, promising to join us at our 
evening’s encampment. 

One thing was yet wanting to fit me out for the Prairies — a 
thoroughly trustworthy steed : I was not yet mounted to my 
mind. The gray I had bought, though strong and serviceable, 
was rough. At the last moment I succeeded in getting an 
excellent animal; a dark bay; powerful, active, generous* 



16 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIE8. 



spirited, and in capital condition. I mounted him with exul 
tation, and transferred the silver gray to Tonish, who was in 
such ecstasies at finding himself so completely en Cavalier^ 
that I feared he might realize the ancient and well-known pro 
verb of a beggar on horseback.” 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE DEPARTURE. 

The long-drawn notes of a bugle at length gave the signal 
for departure. The rangers filed off in a straggling line of 
march through the woods : we were soon on horseback and fol- 
lowing on, but were detained by the irregularity of the pack- 
horses. They were unaccustomed to keep the line, and strag- 
gled from side to side among the thickets, in spite of all the 
pesting and bedeviling of Tonish; who, moimted on his gal- 
lant gray, with a long rifle on his shoulder, worried after them, 
bestowing a superabimdance of dry blows and curses. 

We soon, therefore, lost sight of our escort, but managed to 
keep on their track, thridding lofty forests, and entangled 
thickets, and passing by Indian wigwams and negro huts, 
until toward dusk we arrived at a frontier farm-house, owned 
by a settler of the name of Berryhill. It was situated on a 
hill, below which the rangers had encamped in a circular 
grove, on the margin of a stream. The master of the house 
received us civilly, but could offer us no accommodation, for 
sickness prevailed in his family. He appeared himself to be 
in no very thriving condition, for though bulky in frame, he 
had a sallow, unhealthy complexion, and a whiffling double 
voice, shifting abruptly from a treble to a thorough-bass. 

Finding his log house was a mere hospital, crowded with 
invalids, we ordered our tent to be pitched in the farm-yard. 

We had not been long encamped, when our recently engaged 
attendant, Beatte, the Osage half-breed, made his appearance. 
He came moimted on one horse and leading another, which 
seemed to be well packed ^vith supplies for the expedition. 
Beatte was evidently an “old soldier,” as to the art of taking 
care of himself and looking out for emergencies. Finding that 
ho Vv^as in government employ, boing engaged by the Commia 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



17 



sioner, he had drawn rations of flour and bacon, and put them 
up so as to be weather-proof. In addition to the horse for the 
road, and for ordinary service, which was a rough, hardy 
animal, he had another for hunting. This was of a mixed 
breed like himself, being a cross of the domestic stock with the 
wild horse of the prairies ; and a noble steed it was, of generous 
spirit, fine action, and admirable bottom. He had taken care 
to have his horses well shod at the Agency. He came prepared 
at all points for war or hunting: his rifle on his shoulder, his 
powder-horn and bullet-pouch at his side, his hunting-knife 
stuck in his belt, and coils of cordage at his saddle bow, which 
we were told were lariats, or noosed cords, used in catching the 
wild horse. 

Thus equipped and provided, an Indian hunter on a prairie is 
like a cruiser on the ocean, perfectly independent of the world, 
and competent to self-protection and self -maintenance. He 
can cast himself loose from every one, shape his own course, 
and take care of his own fortunes. I thought Beatte seemed to 
feel his independence, and to consider himself superior to us 
all, now that we were launching into the wilderness. He 
maintained a half proud, half sullen look, and great taciturnity, 
and his first care was to unpack his horses and put them in 
safe quarters for the night. His whole demeanor was in per- 
fect contrast to our vaporing, chattering, bustling little French- 
man. The latter, too, seemed jealous of this new-comer. He 
whispered to us that these half-breeds were a touchy, capri- 
cious people, little to be depended upon. That Beatte had 
evidently come prepared to take care of himself, and that, at 
any moment in the course of our tour, he would be liable to 
take some sudden disgust or affront, and abandon us at a 
moment’s warning: having the means of shifting for himself, 
and being perfectly at home on the prairies. 



CHAPTER V. 

FRONTIER SCENES.— -A LYCURGUS OP THE BORDER.— LYNCH’S LAW. 
— THE DANGER OF FINDING A HORSE. — THE YOUNG OSAGE. 

On the following morning (October 11), we were on the 
march by half-past seven o’clock, and rode through deep rich 
bottoms of alluvial soil, overgrown with redundant vegetation. 



18 



A TOUR OJSr THE PRAIRIES. 



and trees of an enormous size. Our route lay parallel to the 
west bank of the Arkansas, on the borders of which river, near 
the confluence of the Red Fork, we expected to overtake the 
main body of rangers. For some miles the country was 
sprinkled with Creek villages and farm-houses ; the inhabitants 
of which appeared to have adopted, with considerable facility, 
the rudiments of civilization, and to have thriven in con- 
sequence. Their farms were well stocked, and their houses 
had a look of comfort and abundance. ' 

We met with numbers of them returnmg from one of their 
grand games of ball, for which their nation is celebrated. 
Some were on foot, some on horseback; the latter, occasion- 
ally, with gayly dressed females behind them. They are a 
well-made race, muscular and closely knit, with well-turned 
thighs and legs. They have a gypsy fondness for brilliant 
colors and gay decorations, and are bright and fanciful objects 
when seen at a distance on the prairies. One had a scarlet 
handkerchief bound round his head, surjnounted with a tuft of 
black feathers like a cocktail. Another had a white handker- 
chief, with red feathers; while a third, for want of a plume, 
had stuck in his turban a brilliant bunch of sumach. 

On the verge of the wilderness we paused to inquire our 
way at a log house, owned by a white settler or squatter, a 
tall raw-boned old fellow, with red hair, a lank lantern visage, 
and an inveterate habit of winking with one eye, as if every- 
thing he said was of knowing import. He was in a towering 
passion. One of his horses was missing; he was sure it had 
been stolen in the night by a straggling party of Osages 
encamped in a neighboring swamp ; but he would have satis- 
faction ! He would make an example of the villains. He had 
accordingly caught down his rifle from, the wall, that invariable 
enforcer of right or wrong upon the frontiers, and, having 
saddled his steed, was about to sally forth on a foray into the 
swamp; vfhile a brother squatter, with rifle in hand, stood 
ready to accompany him. 

We endeavored to calm the old campaigner of the prairies, 
by suggesting that his horse might have strayed into the 
neighboring woods; but he had the frontier propensity to 
charge everything to the Indians, and nothing could dissuade 
him from carrying Are and sword into the swamp. 

After riding a few miles farther we lost the trail of the main 
body of rangers, and became perplexed by a variety of tracks 
made by the Indians and settlers. At length coming to a. lo§ 



A TOUR OiV THE VRAIRJKS. 



19 



house, inhabited by a v/hite man, the very last on the frontier, 
we found that we had wandered from our true course. Taking 
us back for some distance, he again brought us to the right 
jrail ; putting ourselves upon which, Ave took our final depar- 
ture, and launched into the broad wilderness. 

The trail kept on like a straggling footpath, over hill and 
dale, through brush and brake, and tangled thicket, and open 
prairie. In traversing the wilds it is customary for a party 
either of horse or foot to follow each other in single file like the 
Indians ; so that the leaders break the way for those Avho fol- 
low, and lessen their labor and fatigue. In this way, also, the 
number of a party is concealed, the whole leaving but one 
narrow well-trampled track to mark their course. 

We had not long regained the trail, when, on emerging from 
a forest, we beheld our raw-boned, hard-winking, hard-riding 
knight-errant of the frontier, descending the slope of a hill, 
followed by his companion in arms. As he drew near to us, 
the gauntness of his figure and ruefulness of his aspect 
reminded me of the description of the hero of La Mancha, and 
he was equally bent on affairs of doughty enterprise, being 
about to penetrate the thickets of the perilous swamp, within 
which the enemy lay ensconced. 

While we were holding a parley with him on the slope of the 
hiU, Ave descried an Osage on horseback issuing out of a skirt 
of wood about hah a mile off, and leading a horse by a halter. 
The latter was immediately recognized by our hard- winking 
friend as the steed of which he was in quest. As the Osage 
drew near, I was struck with his appearance. He was about 
nineteen or twenty years of age, but well grown, with the fine 
Eonmn countenance common to his tribe, and as he rode with 
his blanket wrapped round his loins, his naked bust would 
have furnished a model for a statuary. He Avas mounted on a 
beautiful piebald horse, a mottled white and brown, of the 
wild breed of the prairies, decorated with a broad collar, from 
which hung in front a tuft of horsehair dyed of a bright 
scarlet. 

The youth rode sloAvly up to us with a frank open air, and 
signified by means of our interpreter Beatte, that the horse he 
was leading had Avandered to their camp, and he was now on 
his way to conduct him back to his owner. 

I had expected to witness an expression of gratitude on the 
part of our hard- favored cavalier, but to my surprise the old 
fellow broke out into a furious passion. He declared that the 



20 



A TOUR OJSr THE VR AIRIES. 



Indians had carried off his horse in the night, mth the inten- 
tion of bringing him home in the morning, and claiming a 
reward for finding him; a common practice, as he aflSrmed, 
among the Indians. He was, therefore, for tying the young 
Indian to a tree and givinghim a sound lashing; and was quite 
surprised at the burst of indignation which this novel mode of 
requiting a service drew from us. Such, however, is too often 
the administration of law on the frontier, “ Lynch’s law,” as it 
is technically termed, in which the plaintiff is apt to be witness, 
jury, judge, and executioner, and the defendant to be convicted 
and punished on mere presumption; and in this way, I am 
convinced, are occasioned many of those heart-burnings and 
resentments among the Indians, which lead to retaliation, and 
end in Indian wars. When I compared the open, noble coun- 
tenance and frank demeanor of the young Osage, Avith the sinis- 
ter visage and high-handed conduct of the frontiersman, I felt 
httle doubt on whose back a lash would be most meritoriously 
bestowed. 

Being thus obliged to content himself with the recovery of 
his horse, without the pleasure of flogging the finder, into the 
bargain the old Lycurgus, or rather Draco, of the frontier, set 
off growling on his return homeward, followed by his brother 
squatter. 

As for the youthful Osage, we Avere all prepossessed in his 
favor; the young Count especially, Avith the sympathies 
proper to his age and incident to his character, had taken 
quite a fancy to him. Nothing Avould suit but he must have 
the young Osage as a companion and squire in his expedition 
into the wilderness. The youth was easily tempted, and, 
Avith the prospect of a safe range over the buffalo prairies 
and the promise of a new blanket, he turned his bridle, left 
the swamp and the encampment of his friends behind him, 
and set off to follow the Count in his wanderings in quest 
of the Osage hunters. 

Such is the glorious independence of man in a savage state. 
This youth, with his rifle, his blanket, and his horse, was ready 
at a moment’s warning to rove the world ; he carried all his 
worldly effects with him, and in the absence of artificial wants, 
possessed the great secret of personal freedom. We of society 
are slaves, not so much to others as to ourselves ; our super> 
fluities are the chains that bind us, impeding every movement 
of our bodies and thwarting every impulse of our souls. Such, 
at least, were my speculations at the time, though I am not 



A TO mi ON THE m AIRIES. 



21 



sure but that they took their tone from the enthusiasm of the 
young Count, who seemed more enchanted than ever with tlie 
wild chivalry of the prairies, and talked of putting on the In- 
dian dress and adopting the Indian habits during the time he 
hoped to pass with the Osages. 



CHAPTER YI. 

TRAIL OF THE OSAGE HUNTERS.— DEPARTURE OP THE i^OUNT AND 

HIS PARTY. — A DESERTED WAR CAMP.— A VAGRANT DOG: —THE 

ENCAMPMENT. 

In the course of the morning the trail we were pursuing was 
crossed by another, which struck off through the forest to the 
west in a direct course for the Arkansas River. Beatte, our 
half-breed, after considering it for a moment, pronounced it the 
trail of the Osage hunters; and that it must lead to the place 
v/here they had forded the river on their way to the hunting 
grounds. 

Here then the young Count and his companion came to a halt 
and prepared to take leave of us. The most experienced fron- 
tiersmen in the troop remonstrated on the hazard of the under- 
taking. They were about to throw themselves loose in the 
wilderness, with no other guides, guards, or attendants, than 
a young ignorant half-breed, and a still younger Indian. They 
were embarrassed by a pack-horse and two led horses, with 
which they would have to make their way through matted 
forests, and across rivers and morasses. The Osages and Pav/- 
nees were at war, and they might fall in with some warrior 
party of the latter, who are ferocious foes ; besides, their small 
number, and their valuable horses, would form a great temp- 
tation to some of the straggling bands of Osages loitering 
about the frontier, who might rob them of their horses in 
the night, and leave them destitute and on foot in the midst 
of the prairies. 

Nothing, however, could restrain the romantic ardor of the 
Count for a campaign of buffalo hunting with the Osages, and 
he had a game spirit that seemed always stimulated by the idea 
of danger. His travelling companion, of discreeter age and 
calmer temperament, was convinced of the rashness of the 
enterprise ; but he could not control the impetuous zeal of hisf 



22 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



youthful friend, and he was too loyal to leave him to pursue his 
hazardous scheme alone. To our great regret, therefore, we 
saw them abandon the protection of our escort, and strike off 
on their hap-hazard expedition. The old hunters of our party 
shook their heads, and our half-breed, Beatte, predicted all 
kinds of trouble to them; my only hope was, that they would 
soon meet with perplexities enough to cool the impetuosity of 
the young Count, and induce him to rejoin us. With this idea 
we travelled slowly, and made a considerable halt at noon. 
After resuming our march, we came in sight of the Arkansas. 
It presented a broad and rapid stream, bordered by a beach of 
fine sand, overgrown with willows and cottonwood-trees. 
Beyond the river, the eye wandered over a beautiful champaign 
country, of flowery plains and sloping uplands, diversified by 
groves and clumps of trees, and long screens of woodland ; the 
whole wearing the aspect of complete, and even ornamental 
cultivation, instead of native wildness. Not far from the river, 
on an open eminence, we passed through the recently deserted 
camping place of an Osage war party. The frames of the tents 
or wigwams remained, consisting of poles bent into an arch, 
with each end stuck into the ground: these are intertwined 
with twigs and branches, and covered with bark and skins. 
Those experienced in Indian lore, can ascertain the tribe, and 
whether on a hunting or a warlike expedition, by the shape 
and disposition of the wigwams. Beatte pointed out to us, in 
the present skeleton camp, the wigwam in which the chiefs 
had held their consultations around the council-fire; and an 
open area, well trampled down, on which the grand war-dance 
had been performed. 

Pursuing our journey, as we were passing through a forest, 
we were met by a forlorn, half-famished dog, who came ram- 
bling along the trail, with infiamed eyes, and bewildered look. 
Though nearly trampled upon by the foremost rangers, he 
took notice of no one, but rambled heedlessly among the 
horses. The cry of “mad dog” was immediately raised, and 
one of the rangers levelled his rifle, but was stayed by the 
ever-ready humanity of the Commissioner. “He is blind!” 
said he. “It is the dog of some poor Indian, following his 
master by the scent. It would be a shame to kill so faithful 
an animal.” The ranger shouldered his rifle, the dog blun- 
dered blindly throughT the cavalcade unhurt, and keeping 
his nose to the ground, continued his course along the trail 
affording a rare instance of a dog surviving a bad name. 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES, 



23 



About three o’clock, we came to a recent camping-place of 
the company of rangers : the brands of one of their fires were 
still smoking ; so that, according to the opinion of Beatte, they 
could not have passed on above a day previously. As there 
was a fine stream of water close by, and plenty of pea- vines 
for the horses, we encamped here for the night. 

We had not been here long, when we heard a halloo from a 
distance, and beheld the young Count and his party advancing 
through the forest. We welcomed them to the camp with 
heartfelt satisfaction; for their departure upon so hazardous 
an expedition had caused us great uneasiness. A short ex- 
periment had convinced them of the toil and difficulty of in- 
experienced travellers like themselves making their way 
through the wilderness with such a train of horses, and such 
slender attendance. Fortunately, they determined to rejoin 
us before night-fall; one night’s camping out might have cost 
them their horses. The Count had prevailed upon his protege 
and esquire, the young Osage, to continue with him, and still 
calculated upon achieving great exploits, with his assistance, 
on the buffalo prairies. 



CHAPTER VII. 

NEWS OF THE RANGERS.— THE COUNT AND HIS INDIAN SQUIRE.— 
HALT IN THE WOODS. — WOODLAND SCENE. — OSAGE VILLAGE. — 
OSAGE VISITORS AT OUR EVENING CAMP. 

In the morning early (October 12th), the two Creeks who 
had been sent express by the commander of Fort Gibson, to 
stop the company of rangers, arrived at our encampment on 
their return. They had left the company encamped about 
fifty miles distant, in a fine place on the Arkansas, abound- 
ing in game, where they intended to await our arrival. This 
news spread animation throughout our party, and we set out 
on our march at sunrise, with renewed spirit. 

In mounting our steeds, the young Osage attempted to 
throw a blanket upon his wild horse. The fine, sensible ani- 
mal took fright, reared and recoiled. The attitudes of the 
wild horse and the almost naked savage, would have formed 
studies for a painter or a statuary. 

I often pleased myself in the course of our march, with 



24 



A TOUR OjT the prairies. 



noticing the appearance of the young Count and his newly 
enlisted follower, as they rode before me. Never was preux 
chevalier better suited with an esquire. The Count was well 
mounted, and, as I have before observed, was a bold and 
graceful rider. He was fond, too, of caracoling his horse, 
and dashing about in the buoyancy of youthful spirits. His 
dress was a gay Indian hunting frock of dressed deer skin, set- 
ting well to the shape, dyed of a beautiful purple, and fanci- 
fully embroidered with silks of various colors; as if it had 
been the work of some Indian beauty, to decorate a favorite 
chief. With this he wore leathern pantaloons and moccasons, 
a foraging cap, and a double-barrelled gun slung by a bando- 
leer athwart his back: so that he was quite a picturesque 
figure as he managed gracefully his spirited steed. 

The yoimg Osage would ride close behind him on his wild and 
beautifully mottled horse, which was decorated with crimson 
tufts of hair. He rode with his finely shaped head and bust 
naked ; his blanket being girt round his waist. He carried his 
rifle in one hand, and managed his horse with the other, and 
seemed ready to dash off at a moment’s warning, with his 
youthful leader, on any madcap foray or scamper. The Count, 
with the sanguine anticipations of youth, promised himself 
many hardy adventures and exploits in company with his 
youthful “brave,” when we should get among the buffaloes, 
in the Pawnee hunting grounds. 

After riding some distance, we crossed a narrow, deep 
stream, upon a solid bridge, the remains of an old beaver dam; 
the industrious community which had constructed it had al] 
been destroyed. Above us, a streaming flight of wild geese, 
liigh in the air, and malciiig a vociferous noise, gave note of 
the waning year. 

About half past ten o’clock we made a halt in a forest, where 
there was abundance of the pea-vine. Here we turned the 
horses loose to gaze. A Are was made, water procured from 
an adjacent spring, and in a short time our little Frenchman, 
Tonish, had a pot of coffee prepared for our refreshment. 
While partaking of it, we were joined by an old Osage, one 
of a small hunting party who had recently passed this way. 
He was in search of his horse, which had wandered away, or 
been stolen. Our half-breed, Beatte, made a wry face on hear- 
ing of Osage hunters in this direction. “Until we pass those 
hunters,” said he, “we shall see no buffaloes. They frighten 
away every thing, like a prairie on fire.” 



A TOUR ON T1U£ PRAIUim. 



25 



The morning repast being over, the party amused them- 
selves in various ways. Some shot with their rifles at a mai*k, 
others lay asleep half buried in the deep bed of fob age, witli 
their heads resting on their saddles ; others gossiped round the 
fire at the foot of a tree, which sent up wreaths of blue smoke 
among the branches. The horses banqueted luxuriously on 
the pea-vines, and some lay down and rolled amongst them. 

We were overshadowed by lofty trees, with straight, smooth 
trunks, like stately columns ; and as the glancing rays of the 
sun shone through the transparent leaves, tinted with the 
many-colored hues of autumn, I was reminded of the effect 
of sunshine among the stained windows and clustering col- 
umns of a Gothic cathedral. Indeed there is a grandeur and 
solemnity in our spacious forests of the West, that awaken in 
me the same feeling I have experienced in those vast and 
venerable piles, and the sound of the wind sweeping through 
them, supplies occasionally the deep breathings of the organ. 

About noon the bugle sounded to horse, and we were again 
on the march, hoping to arrive at the encampment of the 
rangers before night ; as the old Osage had assured us it was 
not above ten or twelve miles distant. In our course through 
a forest, we passed by a lonely pool, covered with the most 
magnificent water-lilies I had ever beheld ; among which swam 
several wood-ducks, one of the most beautiful of water-fowl, 
remarkable for the gracefulness and brilliancy of its plumage. 

After proceeding some distance farther, we came down upon 
the banks of the Arkansas, at a place where tracks of numer- 
ous horses, all entering the water, showed where a party of 
Osage hunters had recently crossed the river on their way to 
the buffalo range. After letting our horses drink in the river, 
we continued along its bank for a space, and then across 
prairies, where we saw a distant smoke, which we hoped might 
proceed from the encampment of the rangers. Following 
what we supposed to be their trail, we came to a meadow in 
which were a number of horses grazing : they were not, how- 
ever, the horses of the troop. A little farther on, we reached a 
stragghng Osage village, on the banks of the Arkansas. Our 
arrival created quite a sensation. A number of old men came 
forward and shook hands with us all severally; while the 
women and children huddled together in groups, staring at us 
wildly, chattering and laughing among themselves. We 
found that all the young men of the village had departed on a 
hunting expedition, leaving the women and children and old 



26 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



men beliind. Here the Commissioner made a speech from on 
horseback ; informing his hearers of the purport of his mission, 
to promote a general peace among the tribes of the West, and 
urging them to lay aside all warlike and bloodthirsty notions, 
and not to make any wanton attacks upon the Pawnees. 
This speech being interpreted by Beatte, seemed to have a 
most pacifying effect upon the multitude, who promised faith- 
fully that, as far as in them lay, the peace should not be 
disturbed ; and indeed their age and sex gave some reason to 
trust that they would keep their word. 

Still hoping to reach the camp of the rangers before night- 
fall, we pushed on until twihght, when we were obliged to 
halt on the borders of a ravine. The rangers bivouacked 
under trees, at the bottom of the dell, while we pitched 
our tent on a rocky knoll near a running stream. The night 
came on dark and overcast, with flying clouds, and much 
appearance of rain. The fires of the rangers burnt brightly 
in the dell, and threw strong masses of light upon the robber- 
looking groups that were cooking, eating, and drinking around 
them. To add to the wildness of the scene, several Osage 
Indians, visitors from the village we had passed, were mingled 
among the men. Three of them came and seated themselves 
by our fire. They watched every thing that was going on 
around them in silence, and looked hke figures of monumental 
bronze. We gave them food, and, what they most relished, 
coffee ; for the Indians partake in the universal fondness for 
this beverage, which pervades the West. When they had 
made their supper, they stretched themselves, side by side, 
before the fire, and began a low nasal chant, drumming with 
their hands upon their breasts, by way of accompaniment. 
Their chant seemed to consist of regular staves, every one ter- 
minating, not in a melodious cadence, but in the abrupt in- 
terjection huh ! uttered almost like a hiccup. This chant, we 
were told by our interpreter, Beatte, related to ourselves, our 
appearance, our treatment of them, and all that they knew of 
our plans. In one part they spoke of the young Count, whose 
animated character and eagerness for Indian enterprise had 
struck their fancy, and they indulged in some waggery about 
him and the young Indian beauties, that produced great mer- 
riment among our half-breeds. 

This mode of improvising is common throughout the savage 
tribes; and in this way, with a few simple inflections of the 
voice, they chant aU their exploits in war and hunting, and 



A TOUll ON THE PRA IIUICS. 



27 



occasionally indulge in a vein of comic humor and dry satire, 
to which the Indians appear to me much more prone than is 
generally imagined. 

In fact, the Indians that I have had an opportunity of seeing 
in real life are quite different from those described in poetry. 
They are by no means the stoics that they are represented ; 
taciturn, unbending, without a tear or a smile. Taciturn they 
are, it is true, when in company with white men, whose good- 
will they distrust, and whose language they do not understand ; 
but the white man is equally taciturn under like circumstances. 
When the Indians are among themselves, however, there 
cannot be greater gossips. Half their time is taken up in 
talking over their adventures in war and hunting, and in tell- 
ing whimsical stories. They are great mimics and buffoons, 
also, and entertain themselves excessively at the expense of 
the whites with whom they have associated, and who have 
supposed them impressed with profound respect for their 
grandeur and dignity. They are curious observers, noting 
every thing in silence, but with a keen and watchful eye; 
occasionally exchanging a glance or a grunt with each other, 
when any thing particularly stril^es them: but reserving all 
comments vmtil they are alone. Then it is that they give full 
scope to criticism, satire, mimicry, and mirth. 

In the course of my journey along the frontier, I have had 
repeated opportunities of noticing their excitability and boister- 
ous merriment at their games ; and have occasionally noticed 
a group of Osages sitting round a fire until a late hour of the 
night, engaged in the most animated and lively conversation ; 
and at times making the woods resound with peals of laughter. 
As to tears, they have them in abundance, both real and 
affected; at times they make a merit of them. No one weeps 
more bitterly or profusely at the death of a relative or friend : 
and they have stated times when they repair to howl and 
lament at their graves. I have heard doleful wailings at day- 
break, in the neighboring Indian villages, made by some of the 
inhabitants, who go out at that hour into the fields, to mourn 
and weep for the dead : at such times, I am told, the tears will 
stream down their cheeks in torrents. 

As far as I can judge, the Indian of poetical fiction is like the 
shepherd of pastoral romance, a mere personification of imagi- 
nary attributes. 

The nasal chant of our Osage guests gradually died away ; 
they covered their heads with their blankets and fell fast 



28 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



asleep, and in a little while all was silent, except the pattering 
of scattered rain-drops upon our tent. 

In the morning our Indian visitors breakfasted with us, but 
the young Osage who was to act as esquire to the Count in his 
knight-errantry on the prairies, was nowhere to he found. . 
His wild horse, too, was missing, and, after many conjectures, i 
we came to the conclusion that he had taken “Indian leave” oi i 
us in the night. We afterwards ascertained that he had been 1' 
persuaded so to do by the Osages we had recently met with; f 
who had represented to him the perils that would attend him ^ ' 
in an expedition to the Pawnee hunting grounds, where he 
might fall into the hands of the implacable enemies of his 
tribe; and, what was scarcely less to be apprehended, the 
annoyances to which he would he subjected from the capri- 
cious and overbearing conduct of the white men; who, as I 
have witnessed in my own short experience, are prone to treat 
the poor Indians as little better than brute animals. Indeed, 
he had had a specimen of it himself in the narrow escape he 
made from the infliction of “Lynch’s law,” by the hard- j 
winking worthy of the frontier, for the flagitious crime of 
finding a stray horse. 

The disappearance of the youth was generally regretted by 
our party, for we had all taken a great fancy to him from his 
handsome, frank, and manly appearance, and the easy grace 
of his deportment. He was indeed a native-born gentleman. 

By none, however, was he so much lamented as by the young 
Count, who thus suddenly found himself deprived of his 
esquire. I regretted the departure of the Osage for his own 
sake, for we should have cherished him throughout the expe- 
dition, and I am convinced, from the munificent spirit of his 
patron, he would have returned to his tribe laden with wealth 
of beads and trinkets and Indian blankets. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE HONEY CAMP. 

The weather, which had been rainy in the night, having 
held up, we resumed our march at seven o’clock in the morn- 
ing, in confident hope of soon arriving at the encampment of 
the rangers, We had not ridden above three or four miles 



A TOUR ON THE FR AIRIES. 



29 



when we came to a large tree which had recently been felled 
by an axe, for the wild honey contained in the hollow of its 
trunk, several broken flakes of which still remained. We 
now felt sure that the camp could not be far distant. About a 
couple of miles further some of the rangers set up a shout, and 
pointed to a number of horses grazing in a woody bottom. A 
few paces brought us to the brow of an elevated ridge, whence 
we looked down upon the encampment. It was a wild bandit, 
or Robin Hood, scene. In a beautiful open forest, traversed by 
a running stream, were booths of bark and branches, and tents 
of blankets, temporary shelters from the recent rain, for the 
rangers commonly bivouac in the open air. There were groups 
of rangers in every kind of uncouth garb. Some were cooking 
at large flres made at the feet of trees ; some were stretching 
and dressing deer skins ; some were shooting at a mark, and 
some lying about on the grass. Venison jerked, and hung on 
frames, was drying over the embers in one place ; in another 
lay carcasses recently brought in by the hunters. Stacks of 
rifles were leaning against the trunks of the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-horns hangingabove them, while the horses 
were grazing here and there among the thickets. 

Our arrival was greeted with acclamation. The rangers 
crowded about their comrades to inquire the news from the 
fort; for our own part, we were received in frank simple hun- 
ter’s style by Captain Bean, the commander of the company ; 
a man about forty years of age, vigorous and active. His life 
had been chiefly passed on the frontier, occasionally in Indian 
warfare, so that he was a thorough woodsman, and a first-rate 
hunter. He was equipped in character; in leathern hunting 
shirt and leggings, and a leathern foraging cap. 

While we were conversing with the Captain, a veteran 
himtsman approached, whose whole appearance struck me. 
He was of the middle size, but tough and weather-proved ; a 
head partly bald and garnished with loose iron-gray locks, and 
a fine black eye, beaming with youthful spirit. His dress was 
similar to that of the Captain, a rifle shirt and leggings of 
dressed deer skin, that had evidently seen service ; a powder- 
horn was slung by his side, a hunting-knife stuck in his belt, 
and in his hand was an ancient and trusty rifle, doubtless as 
dear to him as a bosom friend. He asked permission to go 
hunting, which was readily granted. ^‘That’s old Ryan,” said 
the Captain, when he had gone; ‘‘there’s not a better hunter in 
the camp; he’s sure to bring in game,” 



30 



A TOUR OAT 'THE PRAIRIES, 



In a little while our pack-horses were unloaded and turned 
loose to revel among the pea- vines. Our tent was pitched; our 
fire made; the half of a deer had been sent to us from the Cap- 
tain’s lodge ; Beatte brought in a couple of wild turkeys ; the 
spits were laden, and the camp-kettle crannned with meat; and 
to crown our luxuries, a basin filled with great flakes of deli- 
cious honey, the spoils of a plundered bee-tree, was given us by 
one of the rangers. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonish, was in an ecstasy, and tuck- 
ing up his sleeves to the elbows, set to work to make a display 
of his culinary skill, on which he prided himself almost as 
much as upon his hunting, his riding, and his warlike prowess. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A BEE HUNT. 

The beautiful forest in which we were encamped abounded in 
bee-trees ; that is to say, trees in the decayed trunks of which 
wild bees had established their hives. It is surprising in what 
countless swarms the bees have overspread the Far West, within 
but a moderate number of years. The Indians consider them the 
harbinger of the white man, as the buffalo is of the red man ; 
and say that, in proportion as the bee advances, the Indian 
and buffalo retire. We are always accustomed to associate 
the hum of the bee-hive with the farmhouse and flower-garden, 
and to consider those industrious little animals as connected 
with the busy haunts of man, and I am told that the wild bee 
is seldom to be met with at any great distance from the fron- 
tier. They have been the heralds of civilization, steadfastly 
preceding it as it advanced from the Atlantic borders, and 
some of the ancient settlers of the West pretend to give the 
very year when the honey-bee first crossed the Mississippi. 
The Indians with surprise found the mouldering trees of their 
forests suddenly teeming with ambrosial sweets, and nothing, 
I am told, can exceed the greedy relish with which they ban^ 
quet for the first time upon this unbought luxury of the wilder^ 
ness. 

At present the honey-bee swarms in myriads, in the noble 
groves and forests which skirt and intersect the prairies, and 
extend along the alluvial bottoms of the rivers. It seems to 



A TOUR ON THE PR A HUES. 



31 



me as if these beautiful regions answer literally to the descrip- 
tion of the land of promise, ‘^a land flowing with milk and 
honey for the rich pasturage of the prairies is calculated to 
sustain herds of cattle as countless as the sands upon the sea- 
shore, while the flowers with which they are enamelled render 
them a very paradise for the nectar-seeking bee. 

We had not been long in the camp when a party set out in 
quest of a hee-tree ; and, being curious to witness the sport, I 
gladly accepted an invitation to accompany them. The party 
was headed by a veteran bee-hunter, a tall lank fellow in 
homespun garb that hung loosely about his limbs, and a straw 
hat shaped not unlike a bee-hive ; a comrade, equally uncouth 
in garb, and without a hat, straddled along at his heels, with a 
long rifle on his shoulder. To these succeeded half a dozen 
others, some with axes and some with rifles, for no one stirs 
far from the camp without his firearms, so as to be ready 
either for wild deer or wild Indian^ 

After proceeding some distance we came to an open glade 
on the skirts of the forest. Here our leader halted, and then 
advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which I per- 
ceived a piece of honey-comb. This I found was the bait or 
lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and 
diving into its cells. When they had laden themselves with 
honey, they would rise into the air, and dart off in a straight 
line, almost with the velocity of a bullet. The hunters 
watched attentively the course they took, and then set off in 
the same direction, stmnbling along over twisted roots and 
fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the sky. In this way 
they traced the honey-laden bees to their hive, in the hollow 
trunk of a blasted oak, where, after buzzing about for a mo- 
ment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. 

Two of the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at 
the foot of the tree to level it with the ground. The mere 
spectators and amateurs, in the meantime, drew off to a 
cautious distance, to be out of the way of the falling of the 
tree and the vengeance of its inmates. The jarring blows of 
the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming or disturbing this 
most industrious community. They continued to ply at their 
usual occupations, some arriving full freighted into port, 
others sallying forth on new expeditions, like so many mer- 
chantmen in a money-making metropolis, little suspicious ^ of 
impending bankruptcy and downfall. Even a loud crack 
which announced the disrupture of the trunk, failed to divert 



32 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



their attention from the intense pursuit of gain; at length 
down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting open 
from end to end, and displaying all the hoarded treasures of 
the commonwealth. 

One of the hunters immediately ran up with a wisp of 
lighted hay as a defence against the bees. The latter, how- 
ever, made no attack and sought no revenge; they seemed 
stupefied by the catastrophe and unsuspicious of its cause, and 
remained crawling and buzzing about the ruins without offer- 
ing us any molestation. Every one of the party now fell to, 
with spoon and hunting-knife, to scoop out the fiakes of 
honey-comb with which the hollow trunk was stored. Some 
of them were of old date and a deep brown color, others were 
beautifully white, and the honey in their cells was almost 
limpid. Such of the combs as were entire were placed in 
camp kettles to be conveyed to the encampment ; those which 
had been shivered in the fall were devoured upon the spot. 
Every stark bee-hunter was to be seen with a rich morsel in 
his hand, dripping about his fingers, and disappearing as 
rapidly as a cream tart before the holiday appetite of a school- 
boy. 

Nor was it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the down- 
fall of this industrious community ; as if the bees would carry 
through the similitude of their habits with those of laborious 
and gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving 
on eager wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their 
neighbors. These busied themselves as eagerly and cheerfully | 
as so many wreckers on an Indiaman that has been driven on 
shore ; plunging into the cells of the broken honey-combs, ban- j 
quoting greedily on the spoil, and then winging their way 
fuU-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors of 
the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do any thing, not 
even to taste the nectar that fiowed around them ; but crawled 
backward and forward, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a 
poor fellow with his hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly 
and despondingly about the ruins of his house that had been 
burnt. 

It is difficult to describe the bewilderment and confusion of 
the bees of the bankrupt hive who had been absent at the time 
of the catastrophe, and who arrived from time to time, with 
full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled about in 
the air, in the place where the fallen tree had once reared its 
head, astonished at finding it all a vacuum. A t length, as if 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



83 



comprehending their disaster, they settled down in clusters o? i 
a dry branch of a neighboring tree, whence they seemed to 
contemplate the prostrate ruin, and to buzz forth doleful 
lamentations over the downfall of their republic. It was a 
scene on which the ‘‘ melancholy Jacques” might have moral- 
ized by the hour. 

We now abandoned the place, leaving much honey in the 
hollow of the tree. ‘‘It will all be cleared off by varmint,” 
said one of the rangers. “What vermin?” asked I. “Oh, 
bears, and skunks, and racoons, and ’possums. The bears is 
the knowingest varmint for finding out a bee-tree in the world. 
They’ll gnaw for days together at the trunk till they make a 
hole big enough to get in their paws, and then they’ll haul out 
honey, bees and all.” 



AMUSEMENTS IN THE CAMP. — CONSULTATIONS. — HUNTERS’ PARE 
AND FEASTING.— EVENING SCENES. — CAMP MELODY.— THE PATE 
OP AN AMATEUR OWL. 



On returning to the camp, we found it a scene of the gre£ 
est hilarity. Some of the rangers were shooting at a mar 
others were leaping, wrestling, and playing at prison bars. 
They were mostly young men, on their first expedition, in 
high health and vigor, and buoyant with anticipations ; and I 
can conceive nothing more likely to set the youthful blood 
into a flow, than a wild wood hfe of the kind, and the range of 
a magnificent wilderness, abounding with game, and fruitful 
of adventure. We send our youth abroad to grow luxurious 
and effeminate in Europe; it appears to me, that a previous 
tour on the prairies would be more likely to produce that 
manliness, simplicity, and self-dependence, most in unison 
with our political institutions. 

While the young men were engaged in these boisterous 
amusements, a graver set, composed of the Captain, the 
Doctor, and other sages and leaders of the camp, were seated 
or stretched out on the grass, round a frontier map, holding 
a consultation about our position, and the course we were to 
pursue. 

Our plan was to cross the Arkansas just above where the 
Bed Fork falls into it, then to keep westerly, until we should 



CHAPTER X. 




34 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



pass through a grand belt of open forest, called the Cross 
Timber, which ranges nearly north and south from the 
Arkansas to Red River; after which, we were to keep a 
southerly course toward the latter river. 

Our half-breed, Beatte, being an experienced Osage hunter, 
was called into the consultation. “Have you ever hunted in 
this direction?” said the Captain. “Yes,” was the laconic 
reply. 

“Perhaps, then, you can tell us in which direction lies the 
Red Fork ?” 

“If you keep along yonder, by the edge of the prairie, you 
will come to a bald hill, with a pile of stones upon it.” 

“I have noticed that hill as I was hunting,” said the Cap 
tain. 

“Well! those stones were setup by the Osages as a land^ 
mark: from that spot you may have a sight of the Red 
Fork.” 

“In that case,” cried the Captain, “we shall reach the Red 
Fork to-morrow; then cross the Arkansas above it, into the 
Pawnee country, and then in two days we shall crack buffalo 
bones 1” 

The idea of arriving at the adventurous hunting grounds of 
the Pawnees, and of coming upon the traces of the buffaloes, 
made every eye sparkle with animation. Our further con- 
versation was interrupted by the sharp report of a rifle at no 
great distance from the camp. 

“That’s old Ryan’s rifle,” exclaimed the Captain; “there’s 
a buck down. I’ll warrant !” . Nor was he mistaken; for, before 
long, the veteran made his appearance, calling upon one of the 
younger rangers to return with him, and aid in bringing home 
the carcass. 

The surrounding country, in fact, abounded with game, so 
that the camp was overstocked with provisions, and, as no less 
than twenty bee-trees had been cut down in the vicinity, every 
one revelled in luxury. With the wasteful prodigality of hun- 
ters, there was a continual feasting, and scarce any one put by 
provision for the morrow. The cooking was conducted in 
hunter’s style: the meat was stuck upon tapering spits of 
dogwood, which were thrust perpendicularly into the ground, 
so as to sustain the joint before the fire, where it was roasted 
or broiled with all its juices retained in it in a manner that 
would have tickled the palate of the most experienced gour- 
mand. As much could not be said in favor of the bread. It 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



35 



was little more than a paste made of flour and water, and fried 
like fritters, in lard ; though some adopted a ruder style, twist- 
ing it round the ends of sticlis, and thus roasting it before the 
fire. In either way, I have found it extremely palatable on 
the prairies. No one knows the true relish of food until he has 
a hunter’s appetite. 

Before sunset, we were summoned by little Tonish to a 
sumptuous repast. Blankets had been spread on the ground 
near to the fire, upon which we took our seats. A large dish, 
or howl, made from the root of a maple tree, and which we 
had purchased at the Indian village, was placed on the ground 
before us, and into it were emptied the contents of one of the 
camp kettles, consisting of a wild turkey hashed, together with 
slices of bacon and lumps of dough. Beside ^ was placed 
another bowl of similar ware, containing an ample supply of 
fritters. After we had discussed the hash, two wooden spits, 
on which the ribs of a fat buck were broiling before the fire, 
were removed and planted in the ground before us, with a 
triumphant air, by little Tonish. Having no dishes, we had to 
proceed in hunter’s style, cutting off strips and slices with our 
hunting-knives, and dipping them in salt and pepper. To do 
justice to Tonish’s cookery, however, and to the keen sauce of 
the prairies, never have I tasted venison so delicious. With 
all this, our beverage was coffee, boiled in a camp kettle, 
sweetened with brown sugar, and drunk out of tin cups : and 
such was the style of our banqueting throughout this expedi- 
tion, whenever provisions were plenty, and as long as flour 
and coffee and sugar held out. 

As the twilight thickened into night, the sentinels were 
marched forth to their stations around the camp; an indis- 
pensable precaution in a country infested by Indians. The 
encampment now presented a picturesque appearance. Camp 
fires were blazing and smouldering here and there among the 
trees, with groups of rangers round them; some seated ^r 
lying on the ground, others standing in the ruddy glare of the 
flames, or in shadowy relief. At some of the fires there \/as 
much boisterous mirth, where peals of laughter were mingled 
^vith loud ribald jokes and uncouth exclamations; for the 
troop was evidently a raw, undisciplined band, levied among 
the wild youngsters of the frontier, who had enlisted, some for 
the sake of roving adventure, and some for the purpose of 
getting a knowledge of the country. Many of them were the 
neighbors of their officers, and accustomed to regard them 



36 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



with the familiarity of equals and companions. None of them 
had any idea of the restraint and decorum of a camp, or 
ambition to acquire a name for exactness in a profession in 
which they had no intention of continuing. 

While this boisterous merriment prevailed at some of the 
fires, there suddenly rose a strain of nasal melody from 
another, at which a choir of “vocalists” were uniting their 
voices in a most lugubrious psalm tune. This was led by one 
of the lieutenants ; a tall, spare man, who we were informed 
had officiated as schoolmaster, singing-master, and occasionally 
as Methodist preacher, in one of the villages of the frontier. 
The chant rose solemnly and sadly in the night air, and 
reminded me of the description of similar canticles in the 
camps of the Covenanters; and, indeed, the strange medley of 
figures and faces and uncouth garbs, congregated together in 
our troop, would not have disgraced the banners of Praise-God 
Barebones. 

In one of the intervals of this nasal psalmody, an amateur 
owl, as if in competition, began his dreary hooting. Immedi- 
ately there was a cry throughout the camp of “Charley’s owl! 
Charley’s owl 1” It seems this “obscure bird ” had visited the 
camp every night, and had been fired at by one of the senti- 
nels, a half-witted lad, named Charley; who, on being called 
up for firing when on duty, excused himself by saying, that he 
understood owls made uncommonly good soup. 

One of the young rangers mimicked the cry of this bird of 
wisdom, who, with a simplicity little consonant with his 
character, came hovering within sight, and alighted on the 
naked branch of a tree, lit up by the blaze of our fire. The 
young Count immediately seized his fowhng-piece, took fatal 
aim, and in a twinkling the poor bird of ill omen came fiutter- 
ing to the ground. Charley was now called upon to make and 
eat his dish of owl-soup, but declined, as he had not shot the 
bird. 

In the course of the evening, I paid a visit to the Captain’s 
fire. It was composed of huge trunks of trees, and of suffi- 
cient magnitude to roast a buffalo whole. Here were a num- 
ber of the prime hunters and leaders of the camp, some sitting, 
some standing, and others lying on skins or blankets before 
the fire, telling old frontier stories about hunting and Indian 
warfare. 

As the night advanced, we perceived above the trees to the 
west, a ruddy glow fiushing up the sky. 



A TOUR ON Tim VR AIRIES, 



37 



That must be a prairie set on fire by the Osage hunters,” 
said the Captain. 

“It is at the Red Fork,” said Beatte, regarding the sky. 
“ It seems but three miles distant, yet it perhaps is twenty.” 
About half past eight o’clock, a beautiful pale light gradu- 
ally sprang up in the east, a precursor of the rising moon. 
Drawing off from the Captain’s lodge, I now prepared for the 
night’s repose. I had determined to abandon the shelter of 
the tent, and henceforth to bivouac like the rangers. A bear- 
skin spread at the foot of a tree was my bed, with a pair of 
saddle-bags for a pillow. Wrapping myself in blankets, I 
stretched myseK on this hunter’s couch, and soon fell into a 
sound and sweet sleep, from which I did not awake imtil the 
bugle sounded at daybreak. 



CHAPTER XL 

BREAKING UP OF THE ENCAMPMENT.— PICTURESQUE MARCH.— 
GAME.— CAMP SCENES.— TRIUMPH OP A YOUNG HUNTER.— ILL 
SUCCESS OF AN OLD HUNTER.— FOUL MURDER OF A POLECAT. 

October 14th.— At the signal note of the bugle, the sentinels 
and patrols marched in from their stations around the camp 
and were dismissed. The rangers were roused from their 
night’s repose, and soon a bustling scene took place. While 
some cut wood, made fires, and prepared the morning’s meal, 
others struck their foul-weather shelters of blankets, and 
made every preparation for departure; while others dashed 
about, through brush and brake, catching the horses and lead- 
ing or driving them into camp. 

During all this bustle the forest rang with whoops, and 
shouts, and peals of laughter; when all had breakfasted, 
packed up their effects and camp equipage, and loaded the 
pack-horses, the bugle sounded to saddle and mount. By 
eight o’clock the whole troop set off in a long straggling line, 
with whoop and halloo, intermingled with many an oath at 
the loitering pack-horses, and in a little while the forest, which 
for several days had been the scene of such unwonted bustle 
and uproar, relapsed into its primeval solitude and silence. 

It was a bright sunny morning, with a pure transparent 
atmosphere that seemed to bathe the very heart with glad' 



38 



A TOUR ON TEE FR AIRIES. 



ness. Our march continued parallel to the Arkansas, through 
a rich and varied country; sometimes we had to break our 
way through alluvial bottoms matted with redundant vegeta- 
tion, where the gigantic trees were entangled with grap-vines, 
hanging like cordage from their branches; sometimes we 
coasted along sluggish brooks, whose feebly trickling current 
just served to link together a succession of glassy pools, im- 
bedded like mirrors in the quiet bosom of the forest, reflecting 
its autumnal foliage, and patches of the clear blue sky. Some- 
tunes we scrambled up broken and rocky hills, from the sum- 
mits of which we had wide views stretching on one side over 
distant prairies diversified by groves and forests, and on the 
other ranging along a line of blue and shadowy hills beyond 
the waters of the Arkansas. 

The appearance of our troop was suited to the country; 
stretching along in a line of upward of half a mile in length, 
Yvdnding among brakes and bushes, and up and down in the 
defiles of the hills, the men in every kind of uncouth garb, 
with long rifles on their shoulders, and mounted on horses of 
every color. The pack-horses, too, would incessantly wander 
from the line of march, to crop the surrounding herbage, and 
were banged and beaten back by Tonish and his half-breed 
compeers, with volleys of mongrel oaths. Every now and 
then the notes of the bugle, from the head of the column, 
would echo through the Avoodlands and along the hollow glens, 
sunimoning up stragglers, and announcing the line of march. 
The whole scene reminded me of the description given of bands 
of buccaneers penetrating the wilds of South America, on their 
plundering expeditions against the Spanish settlements. 

At one time we passed through a luxuriant bottom or mea- 
dow bordered by thickets, where the tall grass was pressed 
down into numerous ‘‘deer beds,” where those animals had 
couched the preceding night. Some oak trees also bore signs 
of having been clambered by bears, in quest of acorns, the 
marks of their claws being visible in the bark. 

As we opened a glade of this sheltered meadow we beheld 
several deer bounding away in wild affright, until, having 
gained some distance, they would stop and gaze back, with 
the curiosity common to tliis animal, at the strange intruders 
into their solitudes. There was immediately a sharp report 
of rifles in every direction, from the young huntsmen of the 
troop, but they were too eager to aim surely, and the deer, un- 
harmed, bounded away into the depths of the forest. 



A TOUR OK mil] PRAIRIES. 



39 



In the coui’se of our march we struck the Arkansas, but 
found ourselves still below the Eed Fork, and, as the river 
made deep bends, we again left its banks and continued 
through the woods until nearly eight o’clock, when we en- 
camped in a beautiful basin bordered by a fine stream, and 
shaded by clumps of lofty oaks. 

The horses were now hobbled, that is to say, their fore legs 
were fettered with cords or leathern straps, so as to impede 
their movements, and prevent their wandering from the camp. 
They were then turned loose to graze. A number of rangers, 
prime hunters, started off in different directions in search of 
game. There (vas no whooping nor laughing about the camp 
as in the morning; all were either busy about the fires pre- 
paring the evening’s repast, or reposing upon the grass. Shots 
were soon heard in various directions. After a time a hunts- 
man rode into the camp with the carcass of a fine buck hang- 
ing across his horse. Shortly afterward came in a couple of 
stripling hunters on foot, one of whom bore on his shoulders 
the body of a doe. He was evidently proud of his spoil, being 
probably one of his first achievements, though he and his com- 
panion were much bantered by their comrades, as youn^ be- 
ginners who hunted in partnership. 

Just as the night set in, there was a great shouting at one 
end of the camp, and immediately afterward a body of young 
rangers came parading round the various fires, bearing one 
of their comrades in triumph on their shoulders. He had shot 
an elk for the first time in his life, and it was the first animal 
of the kind that had been killed on this expedition. The young 
huntsman, whose name was M’Lellan, was the hero of the 
camp for the night, and was the “father of the feast” into 
the bargain; for portions of his elk were seen roasting at every 
fire. 

The other hunters returned without success. The Captain 
had observed the tracks of a buffalo, which must have passed 
within a few days, and had tracked a bear for some distance 
until the foot-prints had disappeared. He had seen an elk, 
too, on the banks of the Arkansas, which walked out on a 
sand-bar of the river, but before he could steal round through 
the bushes to get a shot, it had re-entered the woods. 

Our own hunter, Beatte, returned silent and sulky, from an 
tmsuccessful hunt. As yet he had brought us in nothing, and 
we had depended for our supplies of venison upon the Cap- 
tain’s mess. Beatte was evidently mortified, for be looked 



40 



A TOUR ON THE PR AIRIER. 



down 'vvith contempt upon the rangers, as raw and inexperi* 
"enced woodsmen, but little skilled in hunting; they, on the 
other hand, regarded Beatte with no very complacent eye, as 
one ot an evil breed, and always spoke of him as ‘‘the Im 
dian.” 

Oun httle Frenchman, Tonish, also, by his incessant boast- 
ing, and chattering, and gasconading, in his balderdashed dia- 
lect, had drawn upon himself the ridicule of many of the wags 
of the troop, who amused themselves at his expense in a kind 
of raillery by no means remarkable for its dehcacy ; but the 
httle varlet was so completely fortified by vanity and self-con- 
ceit, that he was invulnerable to every joke. I must confess, 
however, that I felt a httle mortified at the soiTy figure om 
retainers were making among these moss-troopers-of the fron- 
tier. Even our very equipments came in for a share of unpopu- 
larity, and I heard many sneers at the double-barrehed guns 
with which we were provided against smaher game ; the lads 
of the West holding “ shot-guns, ” as they call them, in gi’eat 
contempt, thinking grouse, partndges, and even wild turkeys 
as beneath their serious attention, and the rifle the only fire- 
arm worthy of a hunter. 

I was awakened befo;*e daybreak the next morning, by the 
mournful howling of a wolf, who was skulking about the pur- 
lieus of the camp, attracted by the scent of venison. Scarcely 
had the first gray streak of dawn appeared, when a youngster 
at one of the distant lodges, shaking off his sleep, crowed in 
imitation of a cock, with a loud clear note and prolonged 
cadence, that would have done credit to the most veteran 
chanticleer. He was immediately answered from another 
quarter, as if from a rival rooster. The chant was echoed 
from lodge to lodge, and followed by the cackhng of hens, 
quacking of ducks, gabbling of turkeys, and grunting of 
svdne, until we seemed to have been transported into the 
midst of a farmyard, with all its inmates in fuU conceii; 
around us. 

After riding a short distance this morning, we came upon a 
well-worn Indian track, and following it, scrambled to the 
summit of a hill, whence we had a wide prospect over a coun- 
try divei'sified by rocky ridges and waving lines of upland, 
and enriched by groves and clumps of trees of varied tuft and 
foliage. At a distance to the west, to our great satisfaction, 
we beheld the Red Fork rolling its ruddy current to the Ar- 
kansas, and found that we were above the point of jimction, 



A TOUR OuS TUK PRAIRIES, 



41 



We now descended and pushed forward, with much difficulty, 
through the rich alluvial bottom that borders the Arkansas. 
Here the trees were interwoven with grape-vines, forming a 
kind of cordage, from trunk to tnink and hmb to limb ; there 
was a thick undergrowth, also, of hush and bramble, and such 
an abundance of hops, fit for gathering, that it was difficult for 
our horses to force their way through. 

The soil was imprinted in many places with the tracks of 
ftjcr, and the claws of bears were to be traced on various trees. 
-^ v ery one was on the look-out in the hope of starting some 
game, when suddenly there was a bustle and a clamor in a 
distant paii; of the line. A bear! a bear! was the cry. We 
all pressed forward to be present at the spoi4, when to my 
infinite, though whimsical chagrin, I found it to be our two 
worthies, Beatte and Tonish, perpetrating a foul murder on a 
polecat, or skunk ! The animal had ensconced itself beneath 
the trunk of a fallen tree, whence it kept up a vigorous defence 
in its peculiar style, until the surrounding forest was in a high 
state of fragrance. 

Gibes and jokes now broke out on all sides at the expense of 
the Indian hunter, and he was advised to wear the scalp of the 
skunk as the only trophy of his prowess. When they found, 
however, that he and Tonish were absolutely bent upon bearing 
off the carcass as a peculiar dainty, there was a universal 
expression of disgust ; and they were regarded as httle better 
than cannibals. 

Mortified at this ignominious debut of our two hunters, I 
insisted upon their abandoning their prize and resuming their 
march. Beatte complied with a dogged, discontented air, and 
lagged behind muttering to himself. Tonish, however, with 
his usual buoyancy, consoled himself by vociferous eulogies on 
the richness and dehcacy of a roasted polecat, which he swore 
was considered the daintiest of dishes by all experienced Indian 
gourmands. It was with difficulty I could silence liis loqua- 
city by repeated and peremptory commands. A Frenchman’s 
vivacity, however, if repressed in one way, will break out in 
another, and Tonish now eased off his spleen by bestowing 
volleys of oaths and dry blows on the pack-horses. I was 
likely to be no gainer in the end, by my opposition to the 
humors of these varlets, for after a time, Beatte, who had 
lagged behind, rode up to the head oi the line to resume his 
station as a guide, and I had the vexation to see the carcass of 
Ms prize, stripped of its skin, and looking like a fat suckmg- 



42 



A TOUR OJV THE PRAIRIES, 



pig, dangling beliind his saddle. I made a solemn vow, how 
ever, in secret, that our fire should not be disgraced by the 
cooking of that polecat. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE CROSSING OF THE ARKANSAS. 

We had now arrived at the river, about a quarter of a mile 
above the jxmction of the Red Fork ; but the banks were steep 
and crumbhng, and the current was deep and rapid. It was 
impossible, therefore, to cross at this place ; and we resumed 
our painful course through the forest, dispatching Beatte ahead, 
in search of a fording place. We had proceeded about a mile 
farther, when he rejoined us, bringing intelligence of a place 
hard by, where the river, for a great part of its breadth, was 
rendered fordable by sand-bars, and the remainder might easily 
be swam by the horses. 

Here, then, we made a halt. Some of the rangers set to 
work vigorously with their axes, felling trees on the edge of 
the river, wherewith to form rafts for the transportation of 
their baggage and camp equipage. Others patrolled the banks 
of the river farther up, in hopes of finding a better fording 
place ; being unwilling to risk their horses in the deep channel. 

It was now that our worthies, Beatte and Tonish, had an 
opportunity of displaying their Indian adroitness and resource. 
At the Osage village which we had passed a day or two before, 
they had procured a dry buffalo skin. This was now produced ; 
cords were passed through a number of small eyelet-holes with 
which it was bordered, and it was drawn up, until it formed a 
kind of deep trough. Sticks were then placed athwart it on 
the inside, to keep it in shape ; our camp equipage and a part 
of our baggage were placed within, and the singular bark was 
carried down the bank and set afioat. A cord was attached to 
the prow, which Beatte took between his teeth, and throwing 
himself into the water, went ahead, towing the bark after him ; 
while Tonish followed behind, to keep it steady and to propel 
it. Part of the way they had foothold, and were enabled to 
v/ade, but in the main current they were obliged to swim. The 
Y/hole way, they whooped and yelled in the Indian style, imtil 
they landed safely on the opposite shore. 



A TOUR OiY THE PRAIRIES, 



43 



The Commissioner and myself were so well pleased with this 
Indian mode of ferriage, that we determined to trust ourselves 
in the buffalo hide. Our companions, the Count and Mr. L., 
had proceeded with the horses, along the river bank, in search 
of a ford which some of the rangers had discovered, about a 
mile and a half distant. While we were waiting for the return 
of our ferryman, I happened to cast my eyes upon a heap of 
luggage under a bush, and descried the sleek carcass of the 
polecat, snugly trussed up, and ready for roasting before the 
evening fire. I could not resist the temptation to plump it into 
the river, when it sunk to the bottom like a lump of lead ; and 
thus our lodge was relieved from the bad odor which this savory 
viand had threatened to bring upon it. 

Our men having recrossed with their cockle-shell bark, it 
was drawn on shore, half filled with saddles, saddlebags, and 
other luggage, amounting to a hundred weight; and being 
again placed in the water, I was invited to take my seat. It 
appeared to me pretty much like the embarkation of the wise 
men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl : I stepped in, how- 
ever, without hesitation, though as cautiously as possible, and 
sat down on the top of the luggage, the margin of the hide 
sinking to within a hand’s breadth of the water’s edge. Eifies, 
fowling-pieces, and other articles of small bulk, were then 
handed in, until I protested against receiving any more freight. 
We then launched forth upon the stream, the bark being towed 
as before. 

It was with a sensation half serious, half comic, that I found 
myself thus afloat, on the skin of a buffalo, in the midst of a 
wild river, surrounded by wilderness, and towed along by a 
half savage, whooping and yelling hke a devil incarnate. To 
please the vanity of little Tonish, I discharged the double- 
barrelled gun, to the right and left, when in the centre of the 
stream. The report echoed along the woody shores, and was 
answered by shouts from some of the rangers, to the great 
exultation of the little Frenchman, who took to himself the 
whole glory of this Indian mode of navigation. 

Our voyage was accomplished happily; the Commissioner 
was ferried across with equal success, and all our effects were 
brought over in the same manner. Nothing could equal the 
vain-glorious vaporing of little Tonish, as he strutted about the 
shore, and exulted in his superior skill and knowledge, to the 
rangers. Beatte, however, kept his proud, saturnine look, 
without a smile. He had a vast contempt for the ignorance of 



44 



JL TOUR ON' THE PRAIRIES. 



the rangers, and felt that he had been undervalued by them. 
His only observation was, “Deynow see de Indian good for 
someting, anyhow!” 

The broad, sandy shore whei’c we had landed, was intersec- 
ted by innumerable tracks of elk, deer, bears, racoons, turkeys, 
and water-fowl. The river scenery at this place was beauti- 
fully diversified, presenting long, shining reaches, bordered 
by willows and cottonwood trees; rich bottoms, with lofty 
forests ; among which towered enormous plane trees, and the 
distance was closed in by high embowered promontories. The 
foliage had a yellow autumnal tint, which gave to the sunny 
landscape the golden tone of one of the landscapes of Claude 
Lorraine. There was animation given to the scene, by a raft 
of logs and bi’anches, on which the Captain and his prime com- 
panion, the Doctor, were ferrying their effects across the 
stream ; and by a long line of rangers on horseback, fording 
the river obliquely, along a series of sand-bars, about a mile 
and a half distant. 



CHAPTER XHI. 

The Camp of the Glen. 

CAMP GOSSIP. — PAV/NEES AND THEIR HABITS. —A HUNTER’S AD- 
VENTURE.— HORSES FOUND, AND MEN LOST. 

Being joined by the Captain and some of the rangers, we 
struck into the woods for about half a mile, and then entered a 
wild, rocky dell, bordered by two lofty ridges of limestone, 
which narrowed as we advanced, until they met and united; 
making almost an angle. Here a fine spring of water rose 
among the rocks, and fed a silver rill that ran the whole 
length of the dell, freshening the grass with which it was 
carpeted. 

In this rocky nook we encamped, among tall trees. The 
rangers gradually joined us, straggling through the forest 
singly or in groups ; some on horseback, some on foot, driving 
their horses before them, heavily laden with baggage, some 
dripping wet, having fallen into the river ; for they had ex- 
perienced much fatigue and trouble from the length of the 
ford, and the depth and rapidity of the stream. They looked 



A TOUR OJSr THE PRAHUES. 



4H 

mot unlike banditti returning with their plunder, and the wild 
dell was a retreat worthy to receive them. The effect was 
heightened after dark, when the light of the fires was cast upon 
rugged looking groups of men and horses ; with baggage tum- 
bled in heaps, rifles piled against the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-horns hanging about their trunks. 

At the encampment we were joined by the young Count and 
his companion, and the young half-breed, Antoine, who had 
all passed successfully by the ford. To my annoyance, how- 
ever, I discovered that both of my horses were missing. I had 
supposed them in the charge of Antoine ; but he, with charac- 
teristic carelessness, had paid no heed to them, and they had 
probably wandered from the line on the opposite side of the 
river. It was arranged that Beatte and Antoine should recross 
the river at an early hour of the morning, in search of them. 

A fat buck, and a number of wild turkeys being brought 
into the camp, we managed, with the addition of a cup of 
coffee, to make a comfortable supper ; after which I repaired 
to the Captain’s lodge, which was a kind of council fire and 
gossiping place for the veterans of the camp. 

As we were conversing together, we observed, as on former 
nights, a dusky, red glow in the west, above the summits of 
the surrounding cliffs. It was again attributed to Indian fires 
on the prairies ; and supposed to be on the western side of the 
Arkansas. If so, it was thought they must be made by some 
party of Pawnees, as the Osage hunters seldom ventured in 
that quarter. Our half-breeds, however, pronounced them 
Osage fires; and that they were on the opposite side of the 
Arkansas. 

The conversation now turned upon the Pawnees, into whose 
hunting grounds we were about entering. There is always 
some wild untamed tribe of Indians, who form, for a time, the 
terror of a frontier, and about whom all kinds of fearful 
stories are told. Such, at present, was the case with the Paw- 
nees, who rove the regions between the Arkansas and the Eed 
Eiver, and the prairies of Texas. They were represented as 
admirable horsemen, and always on horseback; mounted on 
fleet and hardy steeds, the wild race of the prairies. With 
these they roam the great plains that extend about the Arkan- 
sas, the Eed Eiver, and through Texas, to the Eocky Moun- 
tains; sometimes engaged in hunting the deer and buffalo, 
sometimes in warlike and predatory expeditions ; for, like their 
counterparts, the sons of Ishmael, their hand is against every 



46 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



one, and every one’s hand against them. Some of them have 
no fixed habitation, but dwell in tents of skin, easily packed 
up and transported, so that they are here to-day, and away, no 
one knows where, to-morrow. 

One of the veteran hunters gave several anecdotes of their 
mode of fighting. Luckless, according to his account, is the 
band of weary traders or hunters descried by them, in the 
midst of a prairie. Sometimes, they will steal upon them by 
stratagem, hanging with one leg over the saddle, and their 
bodies concealed ; so that their troop at a distance has the ap- 
pearance of a gang of wild horses. When they have thus 
gained sufiiciently upon the enemy, they will suddenly raise 
themselves in their saddles, and come like a rushing blast, all 
fiuttering with feathers, shaking their mantles, brandishing 
their weapons, and making hideous yells. In this way, they 
seek to strike a panic into the horses, and put them to the 
scamper, when they will pursue and carry them off in tri- 
umph. 

The best mode of defence, according to this vetern woods- 
man, is to get into the covert of some wood, or thicket ; or if 
there be none at hand, to dismount, tie the horses firmly head 
to head in a circle, so that they cannot break away and scatter, 
and resort to the shelter of a ravine, or make a hollow in the 
sand, where they may be screened from the shafts of the Paw- 
nees. The latter chiefly use the bow and arrow, and are dex- 
terous archers; circling round and round their enemy, and 
launching their arrows when at full speed. They are chiefly 
formidable on the prairies, where they have free career foi 
their horses, and no trees to turn aside their arrows. They 
will rarely follow a flying enemy into the forest. 

Several anecdotes, also, were given, of the secrecy and cau 
tion with which they will follow, and hang about the camp ol 
an enemy, seeking a favorable moment for plunder or attack. 

‘‘We must now begin to keep a sharp look-out,” said the 
Captain. “I must issue written orders, that no man shall 
hunt without leave, or fire off a gun, on pain of riding a wooden 
horse with a sharp back. I have a wild crew of young fellows, 
unaccustomed to frontier service. It will be difiicult to teach 
them caution. We are now in the land of a silent, watchful, 
crafty people, who, when we least suspect it, may be around 
us, spying out aU our movements, and ready to pounce upon all 
stragglers.” 

“How wiU you be able to keep your men from firing, if they 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 47 

see game while strolling round the camp?” asked one of the 
rangers. 

“They must not take their guns with them unless they are 
on duty, or have permission.” 

“Ah, Captain!” cried the ranger, “that will never do for 
me. Where I go, my rifle goes. I never hke to leave it be- 
hind ; it’s like a part of myself. There’s no one will take such 
care of it as I, and there’s nothing will take such care of me as 
my rifle.” 

“ There’s truth in all that,” said the Captain, touched by a 
true hunter’s sympathy. “I’ve had my rifle pretty nigh as 
long as I have had my wife, and a faithful friend it has been 
to me.” 

Here the Doctor, who is as keen a hunter as the Captain, 
joined in the conversation: “A neighbor of mine says, next to 
my rifle, I’d as leave lend you my wife.” 

“There’s few,” observed the Captain, “that take care of 
their rifles as they ought to be taken care of.” 

“ Or of their wives either,” replied the Doctor, with a wink. 

“ That’s a fact,” rejoined the Captain. 

Word was now brought that a party of four rangers, headed 
by “Old Ryan,” were missing. They had separated from the 
main body, on the opposite side of the river, when searching 
for a ford, and had straggled off, nobody knew whither. 
Many conjectures were made about them, and some apprehen- 
sions expressed for their safety. 

“I should send to look after them,” said the Captain, “but 
old Ryan is with them, and he knows how to take care of him- 
self and of them too. If it were not for him, I would not give 
much for the rest ; but he is as much at home in the woods or 
on a prairie as he would be in his own farmyard. He’s never 
lost, wherever he is. There’s a good gang of them to stand by 
one another; four to watch and one to take care of the fire.” 

“ It’s a dismal thing to get lost at night in a strange and wild 
country,” said one of the younger rangers. 

“ Not if you have one or two in company,” said an elder one. 
“For my part, I could feel as cheerful in this hollow as in my 
own home, if I had but one comrade to take turns to watch 
and keep the fire going. I could lie here for hours, and gaze 
up to that blazing star there, that seems to look down into the 
camp as if it were keeping guard over it.” 

“Aye, the stars are a kind of company to one, when you 
have to keep watch alone. That’s a cheerful star, too, some- 



48 



A TOUR OJT THE PRAIRIES, 



how; that’s the evening star, the planet Venus they call it, I 
think.” 

‘‘ If that’s the planet Venus,” said one of the council, who, I 
believe, was the psalm-singing schoolmaster, ‘‘it bodes us no 
good ; for I recollect reading in some book that the Pawnees 
worship that star, and sacrifice their prisoners to it. So I 
should not feel the better for the sight of that star in this part 
of the country.” 

“ WeU,” said the sergeant, a thorough-bred woodsman, “star 
or no star, I have passed many a night alone in a wilder place 
than this, and slept sound too. I’ll warrant you. Once, how- 
ever, I had rather an uneasy time of it. I was belated in pass- 
ing through a tract of wood, near the Tombigbee Eiver; so I 
struck a light, made a fire, and turned my horse loose, wliile 
I stretched myself to sleep. By and by, I heard the wolves 
howl. My horse came crowding near me for protection, for he 
was terribly frightened. I drove him off, but he returned, and 
drew nearer and nearer, and stood looking at me and at the 
fire, and dozing, and nodding, and tottering on his fore feet, 
for he was powerful tired. After a while, I heard a strange 
dismal cry. I thought at first it might be an owl. I heard it 
again, and then I knew it was not an owl, but must be a pan- 
ther. I felt rather awkward, for I had no weapon but a 
double-bladed penknife. I however prepared for defence in 
the best way I could, and piled up small brands from the fire, 
to pepper him with, should he come nigh. The comiiany of 
my horse now seemed a comfort to me ; the poor creature laid 
down beside me and soon fell asleep, being so tired. I kept 
watch, and nodded and dozed, and started awake, and looked 
round, expecting to see the glO;ring eyes of the panther close 
upon me ; but somehow or other, fatigue got the better of me, 
and I feU asleep outright. In the morning I found the tracks 
of a panther within sixty paces. They were as large as my 
two fists. He had evidently been walking backward and for- 
ward, trying to make up his mind to attack me ; but luckily, 
he had not courage.” 

October 16th. — I awoke before daylight. The moon was 
shining feebly down into the glen, from among light drifting 
clouds ; the camp fires were nearly burnt out, and the men 
lying about them, wrapped in blankets. With the first streak 
of day, our huntsman, Beatte, with Antoine, the young half- 
breed, set off to recross the river, in search of the stray horses, 
in company with several rangers who had left their rifles on 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



49 



the opposite shore. As the ford was deep, and they were 
obliged to cross in a diagonal line, against a rapid current, 
they had to be mounted on the tallest and strongest horses. 

By eight o’clock, Beatte returned. He had found the horses, 
but had lost Antoine. The latter, he said, was a boy, a green- 
horn, that knew nothing of the woods. He had wandered out 
of sight of him, and got lost. JEowever, there were plenty 
more for him to fall in company with, as some of the rangers 
had gone astray also, and old Ryan and his party had not 
returned. 

We waited until the morning was somewhat advanced, in 
hopes of being rejoined by the stragglers, but they did not 
make their appearance. The Captain observed, that the 
Indians on the opposite side of the river, were aU well dis- 
posed to the whites ; so that no serious apprehensions need be 
entertained for the safety of the missing. The greatest danger 
was, that their horses might be stolen in the night by strag- 
gling Osages. He determined, therefore, to proceed, leaving a 
rear guard in the camp, to await their arrival. 

I sat on a rock that overhung the spring at the upper part of 
the dell, and amused myself by watching the changing scene 
before me. First, the preparations for departure. Horses 
driven in from the purlieus of the camp ; rangers riding about 
among rocks and bushes in quest of others that had strayed to 
a distance ; the bustle of packing up camp equipage, and the 
clamor after kettles and frying-pans borrowed by one mess 
from another, mixed up with oaths and exclamations at restive 
horses, or others that had wandered away to graze after being 
packed, among which the voice of our little Frenchman, 
Tonish,^ was particularly to be distinguished. 

The bugle sounded the signal to mount and march. The 
troop filed off in irregular line down the glen, and through the’ 
open forest, winding and gradually disappearing among the 
trees, though the clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle 
could be heard for some time afterward. The rear-guard 
remained under the trees in the lower part of the dell, some on 
horseback, with their rifles on their shoulders ; others seated 
by the Are or lying on the ground, gossiping in a low, lazy 
tone of voice, their horses unsaddled, standing and dozing 
around, while one of the rangers, profiting by this interval of 
leizure, was shaving himself before a pocket mirror stuck 
against the trunk of a tree. 

The clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle at length 



60 



A TOUR OJT THE PRAIRIES. 



died away, and the glen relapsed into quiet and silence, broken 
occasionally by the low murmuring tone of the group around 
the fire, or the pensive whistle of some laggard among the 
trees ; or the rustling of the yellow leaves, which the hghtest 
breath of air brought down in wavering showers, a sign of the 
departing glories of the year. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

DEER-SHOOTING.— LIFE ON THE PRAIRIES. — BEAUTIFUL ENCAMP- 
MENT. — hunter’s luck. — ANECDOTES OF THE DELAWARES AND 
THEIR SUPERSTITIONS. 

Having passed through the skirt of woodland bordering the 
river, we ascended the hills, taking a westerly course through 
an undulating country of “oak openings,” where the eye 
stretched over wide tracts of hill and dale, diversified by for- 
ests, groves, and clumps of trees. As we were proceeding at a 
slow pace, those who were at the head of the line descried 
four deer grazing on a grassy slope about half a mile distant, / 
They apparently had not perceived our approach, and con* 
tinned to graze in perfect tranquillity. A young ranger ob* 
tained permission from the Captain to go in pursuit of them, 
and the troop halted in lengthened line, watching him in 
silence. Walking his horse slowly and cautiously, he made a 
circuit until a screen of wood intervened between him and the 
deer. Dismounting then, he left his horse among the trees, ( 
and creeping round a knoll, was hidden from our view. We ■ 
now kept our eyes intently fixed on the deer, which continued 
grazing, unconscious of their danger. Presently there was the \ 
sh arp report of a rifle ; a fine buck made a convulsive bound | 
and fell to the earth ; his companions scampered off. Immedi- 
ately our whole line of march was broken ; there was a helter- 
skelter galloping of the youngsters of the troop, eager to get a 
shot at the fugitives ; and one of the most conspicuous person- 
ages in the chase was our little Frenchman Tonish, on his 
silver-gray ; having abandoned his pack-horses at the first sight 
of the deer. It was some time before our scattered forces 
could be recalled by the bugle, and our march resumed. 

Two or three times in the course of the day we were inter- 
rupted by hurry-scurry scenes of the kind. The young men 



A TOUR ON THE PR A HUES. 



51 



of the troop were full of excitement on entering an unexplored 
country abounding in game, and they were too little accus- 
tomed to discipline or restraint to he kept in order. No one, 
however, was more unmanageable than Tonish. Hawing an 
intense conceit of his skill as a hunter, and an irrepressible 
passion for display, he was continually sallying forth, like an 
ill-broken hound, whenever any game was started, and had as 
often to be whipped back. 

At length his curiosity got a salutary check. A fat doe 
came bounding along in full view of the whole line. Tonish 
dismounted, levelled his rifle, and had a fair shot. The doe 
kept on. He sprang upon his horse, stood up on the saddle like 
a posture-master, and continued gazing after the animal as if 
certain to see it fall. The doe. however, kept on its way 
rejoicing; a laugh broke out along the line, the little French- 
man slipped quietly into his saddle, began to belabor and blas- 
pheme the wandering pack-horses, as if they had been to blame, 
and for some time we were relieved from his vaunting and 
vaporing. 

In one place of our march we came to the remains of an old 
Indian encampment, on the banks of a fine stream, with the 
moss-grown skulls of deer lying her^ and there about it. As 
we were in the Pawnee country, it was supposed, of course, to 
to have been a camp of those formidable rovers ; the Doctor, 
however, after considering the shape and disposition of the 
lodges, pronounced it the camp of some bold Delawares, who 
had probably made a brief and dashing excursion into these 
dangerous hunting grounds. 

Having proceeded some distance farther, we observed a cou- 
ple of figures on horseback, slowly moving parallel to us along 
the edge of a naked hill about two miles distant ; and appar- 
ently reconnoitring us. There was a halt, and much gazing 
and conjecturing. Were they Indians? If Indians, were they 
Pawnees? There is something exciting to the imagination and 
stirring to the feelings, while traversing these hostile plains, in 
seeing a horseman prowling along the horizon. It is like de- 
scrying a sail at sea in time of war, when it may be either a 
privateer or a pirate. Our conjectures were soon set at rest 
by reconnoitring the two horsemen through a small spyglass, 
when they proved to be two of the men we had left at the 
camp, who had set out to rejoin us, and had wandered from 
the track. 

Our march this day was animating and delightful. We 



5S 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



I 



were in a region of adventure ; breaking our way through 9 
country hitherto untrodden by white men, excepting perchance 
by some solitary trapper. The weather was in its perfection, 
temperate, genial and enlivening ; a deep blue sky with a few 
light feathery clouds, an atmosphere of perfect transparency, 
an air pure and bland, and a glorious country spreading out 
far and wide in the golden sunshine of an autumnal day ; but 
all silent, lifeless, without a human habitation, and apparently 
without a human inhabitant ! It was as if a ban hung over 
t1iis fair but fated region. The very Indians dared not abide 
here, but made it a mere scene of perilous enterprise, to hunt 
for a few days, and then away. 

After a march of about fifteen miles west we encamped in a 
beautiful peninsula, made by the windings and doublings of a 
deep, clear, and almost motionless brook, and covered by an 
open grove of lofty and magnificent trees. Several hunters 
immediately started forth in quest of game before the noise of 
the camp shordd frighten it from the vicinity. Our man, 
Beatte, also took liis. rifle and went forth alone, in a different 
course from the rest. 

For my own part, I lay on the grass under the trees, and 
built castles in the clouds, and indulged in the very luxury of 
rural repose. Indeed I can scarcely conceive a kind of life 
more calculated to put both mind and body in a healthful tone. 
A morning’s ride of several hours diversified by hunting inci- 
dents; an encampment in the afternoon under some noble 
grove on the borders of a stream ; an evening banquet of veni- 
son, fresh killed, roasted, or broiled on the coals; turkeys 
just from the thickets and wild honey from the trees ; and all 
relished an appetite unknown to the gourmets of the cities. 

And at night — such sweet sleeping in the open air, or waking 
and gazing at the moon and stars, shining between the trees ! 

On the present occasion, however, we had not much reason 
to boast of our larder. But one deer had been killed during the 
day, and none of that had reached our lodge. We were fain, 
therefore, to stay our keen appetites by some scraps of turkey 
brought from the last encampment, eked out with a slice or 
two of salt pork. This scarcity, however, did not continue 
long. Before dark a young hunter returned well laden with 
spoil. He had shot a deer, cut it up in an artist-like style, and, 
putting the meat in a kind of sack made of the hide, had slung 
it across his shoulder and trudged with it to camp. 

Not long after, Beatte made his appearance with a fat doe 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



I 



53 



across his horse. It was the first game he had brought in, and 
I was glad to see him with a trophy that might efi'ace the 
memory of the polecat. He laid the carcass down by our fire 
without saying a word, and then turned to unsaddle his horse; 
nor could any questions from us about his hunting draw from 
him more than laconic replies. If Beatte, however, observed 
this Indian taciturnity about what he had done, Tonish made 
up for it by boasting of what he meant to do. Now that we 
were in a good hunting country he meant to take the field, and, 
if we would take his word for it, our lodge would henceforth 
be overwhelmed with game. Luckily his talking did not pre- 
vent his working, the doe was skilfully dissected, several fat 
ribs roasted before the fire, the coffee kettle replenished, and 
in a httle while we were enabled to indemnify ourselves luxuri- 
ously for our late meagre repast. 

The Captain did not return until late, and he returned empty- 
handed. He had been in pursuit of his usual game, the deer, 
when he came upon the tracks of a gang of about sixty elk. 
Having never killed an animal of the kind, and the elk being 
at this moment an object of ambition among all “the veteran 
hunters of the camp, he abandoned his pursuit of the deer, 
and followed the newly discovered track. After some time he 
came in sight of the elk, and had several fair chances of a shot, 
but was anxious to bring down a large buck which kept in the 
advance. Finding at length there was danger of the whole 
gang escaping him, he fired at a doe. The shot took effect, 
but the animal had sufficient strength to keep on for a time 
with its companions. From the tracks of blood he felt confi- 
dent it was mortally wounded, but evening came on, he could 
not keep the trail, and had to give up the search until morn- 
ing. 

Old Eyan and his little band had not yet rejoined us, neither 
had our young half-breed Antoine made his appearance. It 
was determined, therefore, to remain at our encampment for 
the following day, to give time for all stragglers to arrive. 

The conversation this evening, among the old huntsmen, 
turned upon the Delaware tribe, one of whose encampments we 
had passed in the course of the day ; and anecdotes were given 
of their prowess in war and dexterity in hunting. They used 
to be deadly foes of the Osages, who stood in great awe of their 
desperate valor, though they were apt to attribute it to a whim- 
sical cause. ‘‘Look at the Delawares,” would they say^ “ dey 
got short leg —no can run — ^must stand and fight a great heap.” 



54 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



In fact the Delawares are rather short legged, while the Osages 
are remarkable for- length of limb. 

The expeditions of the Delawares, whether of war or hunting, 
are wide and fearless ; a small band of them will penetrate far 
into these dangerous and hostile wilds, and will push their en- 
campments even to the Eocky Mountains. This daring tem- 
per may be in some measTire encouraged by one of the super- 
stitions of their creed. They believe that a guardian spirit, in 
the form of a great eagle, watches over them, hovering in the 
sky, far out of sight. Sometimes, when well pleased with 
them, he wheels down into the lower regions, and may be seen 
circling with widespread wings against the white clouds; at 
such times the seasons are propitious, the corn grows finely, 
and they have great success in hunting. Sometimes, however, 
he is angry, and then he vents his rage in the thunder, w;hich 
is his voice, and the lightning, which is the hashing of his eye, 
and strikes dead the object of his displeasure. 

The Delawares make sacrifices to this spirit, who occasion- 
ally lets drop a feather from his wing in token of satisfaction. 
These feathers render the wearer invisible, and invulnerable. 
Indeed, the Indians generally consider the feathers of the eagle 
possessed of occult and sovereign virtues. 

At one time a party of the Delawares, in the course of a bold 
excursion into the Pawnee hunting grounds, were surrounded 
on one of the great plains, and nearly destroyed. The remnant 
took refuge on the summit of one of those isolated and conical 
hills which rise almost like artificial mounds, from the midst 
of the prairies. Here the chief warrior, driven almost to de- 
spair, sacrificed his horse to the tutelar spirit. Suddenly an 
enormous eagle, rushing down from the sky, bore off the vic- 
tim in his talons, and mounting into the air, dropped a quill 
feather from his wing. The chief caught it up with joy, bound 
it to his forehead, and, leading his followers down the hill, cut 
his way through the enemy with great slaughter, and without 
any one of his party receiving a wound. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE SEARCH FOR THE ELK. — PAWNEE STORIES. 

With the morning dawn, the prime hunters of the camp 
were all on the alert, and set off in different directions, to beat 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



65 



up the country for game. The Captain’s brother, Sergeant 
Bean, was among the first, and returned before breakfast with 
success, having killed a fat doe, almost within the purlieus of 
the camp. 

When breakfast was over, the Captain mounted his horse, 
to go in quest of the elk which he had wounded on the preced- 
ing evening; and which, he was persuaded, had received its 
death-wound. I determined to join him in the search, and we 
accordingly sallied forth together, accompanied also by his 
brother, the sergeant, and a lieutenant. Two rangers followed 
on foot, to bring home the carcass of the doe which the ser- 
geant had killed. We had not ridden far, when we came to 
where it lay, on the side of a hill, in the midst of a beautiful 
woodland scene. The two rangers immediately fell to work, 
with true hunters’ skill, to dismember it, and prepare it for 
transportation to the camp, while we continued on our course. 
We passed along sloping hillsides, among skirts of thicket and 
scattered forest trees, until we came to a place where the long 
herbage was pressed down with numerous elk beds. Here the 
Captain had first roused the gang of elks, and, after looking 
about diligently for a Mttle while, he pointed out their ‘‘trail,” 
the foot-prints of which were as large as those of horned cat- 
tle. He now put himself upon the track, and went quietly for- 
ward, the rest of us following him in Indian file. At length he 
halted at the place where the elk had been when shot at. Spots 
of blood on the surrounding herbage showed that the shot had 
been effective. The wounded animal had evidently kept for 
some distance with the rest of the herd, as could be seen by 
sprinklings of blood here and there, on the shrubs and weeds 
bordering the trail. These at length suddenly disappeared. 
“Somewhere hereabout,” said the Captain, “the elk must 
have turned off from the gang. V/henever they feel them- 
selves mortally wounded, they will turn aside, and seek some 
out-of-the-way place to die alone.” 

There was something in this picture of the last moments of a 
wounded deer, to touch the sympathies of one not hardened to 
the gentle disports of the chase ; such sympathies, however, 
are but transient. Man is naturally an animal of prey ; and, 
however changed by civilization, will readily relapse into his 
instinct for destruction. I found my ravenous and sangui- 
nary propensities daily growing stronger upon the prairies. 

After looking about for a little while, the Captain succeeded 
in finding the separate trail of the wounded elk, which turned 



56 



A TOUR OR THE PRAIRIES. 



off almost at right angles from that of the herd, and entered 
an open forest of scattered trees. The traces of blood became 
more faint and rare, and occurred at greater distances: at 
Length they ceased altogether, and the ground was so hard, 
and the herbage so much parched and withered, that the foot 
prints of the animal could no longer be perceived. 

‘‘The elk must he somewhere in this neighborhood,” said 
the Captain, “as you may know by those turkey-buzzards 
wheeling about in the air: for they always hover in that way 
above some carcass. However, the dead elk cannot get away, 
BO let us foUow the trail of the hvingones: they may have 
halted at no great distance, and we may find them grazing, 
and get another crack at them.” 

We accordingly returned, and resumed the tro.il of the elks, 
which led us a straggling course over hill and dale, covered 
Vv^ith scattered oaks. Every now and then we would catch a 
glimpse of a deer bounding away across some glade of the 
forest, but the Captain was not to be diverted from his elk 
hunt by such inferior game. A large fiock of wild turkeys, 
too, Vv^ere roused by the trampling of our horses; some scam^ 
pered off as fast as their long legs could carry them ; others 
fluttered up into the trees, where they remained with out- 
stretched necks, gazing at us. The Captain would not allow a 
rifle to bo discharged at them, lest it should alarm the elk. 
which he hoped to find in the vicinity. At length we came t<^ 
where the forest ended in a steep bank, and the Ked Fori- 
wound its way below us, between broad sandy shores. Tha 
trail descended the bank, and we could trace it, with our eyes^ 
across the level sands, until it terminated in the riv^er, which, 
it was evident, the gang had forded on the preceding evening. 

“It is needless to follow on any farther,” said the Captain. 
“ Tlie elk must have been much frightened, and, after crossim^ 
the river, may have kept on for twenty miles without stop- 
ping.” 

Our little party now divided, the lieutenant and sergeant 
making a circuit in quest of game, and the Captain and myself 
taking the direction of the camp. On our way, we came to a 
buffalo track, more than a year old. It was not wider than au 
ordinary footpath, and worn deep into the soil; for these 
animals follow each other in single file. Shortly afterward, 
we met two rangers on foot, hunting. They had wounded an 
ell^, but he had escaped; and in pursuing him, had found the 
one shot by the Captain on the preceding evening. They 



A TOUll ON THE PUAIUIKS. 



turned back, and conducted us to it. It was a noble animal, 
as large as a yearling heifer, and lay in an open part of the 
forest, about a mile amd a half distant from the place where it 
had been shot. The turkey -buzzards, which we had previously 
noticed, were wheeling in the air above it. ^lie observation 
of the Captain seemed verified. The poor animal, as life was 
ebbing away, had apparently abandoned its unhurt com- 
panions, and turned aside to die alone. 

The Captain and the two rangers forthwith fell to work, 
with their hunting-knives, to flay and cut up the carcass. It 
was already tainted on the inside, but ample collops were cut 
from the ribs and haunches, and laid in a heap on the out- 
stretched hide. Holes were then cut along the border of the 
hide, raw thongs were passed through them, and the whole 
drawn up like a sack, which was swung behind the Captain’s 
saddle. All this while, the turkey-buzzards were soaring over- 
head, waiting for our departure, to swoop down and banquet 
on the carcass. 

Tjie wreck of the poor elk being thus dismantled, the Cap- 
tain and myself mounted our horses, and jogged back to the 
camp, while the two rangers resumed their hunting. 

Oil reaching the camp, I found there our young half-breed, 
Antoine. After separating from Beatte, in the search after 
the stray horses on the other side of the Arkansas, he had 
fallen upon a wrong track, which he followed for several miles, 
when he overtook old Byan and his party, and found he had 
been following their traces. 

They all forded the Arkansas about eight miles above our 
crossing place, and found their way to our late encampment in 
the glen, where the rear-guard we had left behind was waiting 
for them. Antoine, being well mounted, and somewhat im- 
patient to rejoin us, had pushed on alone, following our trail, 
to our present encampment, and bringing the carcass of a 
young bear which he had killed. 

Our camp, during the residue of the day, presented a min- 
gled picture of bustle and repose. Some of the men vv^ere busy 
round the fires, jerking and roasting venison and bear’s meat, 
to be packed up as a future supply. Some were stretching 
and dressing the skins of the animals they had killed ; others 
were v/ashing their clothes in the brook, and hanging them on 
the bushes to dry ; while many were lying on the grass, and 
lazily gossiping in the shade. Every now and then a hunter 
would return, on horseback or on foot, laden with game, or 



TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



f)8 

empty handed. Those who brought home any spoil, deposited 
it at the Captain’s fire, and then filed off to their respective 
messes, to relate their day’s exploits to their companions. The 
game killed at this camp consisted of six deer, one elk, two 
bears, and six or eight turkeys. 

During the last two or three days, since their wild Indian 
achievement in naviga?ting the river, our retainers had risen 
in consequence among the rangers; and now I found Tonish 
making himself a complete oracle among some of the raw and 
inexperienced recruits, who had never been in the wilderness. 
He had continually a knot hanging about him, and listening 
to his extravagant tales about the Pawnees, with whom he 
pretended to have had fearful encounters. His representa- 
tions, in fact, were calculated to inspire his hearers with an 
awful idea of the foe into whose lands they were intruding. 
According to his accounts, the rifle of the wliite man was no 
match for the bow and arrow of the Pawnee. When the rifle 
was once discharged, it took time and trouble to load it again, 
and in the meantime the enemy could keep on launching his 
shafts as fast as he could draw his bow. Then the Pawnee, 
according to Tonish, could shoot, with unerring aim, three 
hundred yards, and send his arrow clean through and through 
a buffalo; nay, he had known a Pawnee shaft pass through one 
buffalo and wound another. And then the way the Pawnees 
sheltered themselves from the shots of their enemy: they 
would hang with one leg over the saddle, crouching their bodies 
along the opposite side of their horse, and would shoot their 
arrows from under his neck, while at full speed ! 

If Tonish was to be believed, there was peril at every step in 
these debatable grounds of the Indian tribes. Pawnees lurked 
unseen among the thickets and ravines. They had their scouts 
and sentinels on the summit of the mounds which command 
a view over the prairies, where they lay crouched in the tall 
grass; only now and then raising their heads to watch the 
movements of any war or hunting party that might be passing 
in lengthened line below. At night, they would lurk round an 
encampment; crawling through the grass, and imitating the 
movements of a wolf, so as to deceive the sentinel on the out- 
post, until, having arrived sufficiently near, they would speed 
an arrow through his heart, and retreat undiscovered. In 
telling his stories, Tonish would appeal from time to time to 
Beatte, for the truth of what he said ; the only reply would be 
a nod or shrug of the shoulders ; the latter being divided in 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



59 



mind between a distaste for the gasconading spirit of his com- 
rade, and a sovereign contempt for the inexperience of the 
young rangers in all that he considered true knowledge. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A SICK CAMP.— THE MARCH.— THE DISABLED HORSE.— OLD RYAN 

AND THE STRAGGLERS.— SYMPTOMS OF CHANGE OF WEATHER, 

AND CHANGE OF HUMORS. 

October 18th.— We prepared to march at the usual hour, 
but word was brought to the Captain that three of the rangers, 
who had been attacked with the measles, were unable to pro- 
ceed, and that another one was missing. The last was an old 
frontiersman, by the name of Sawyer, who had gained years 
without experience ; and having sallied forth to hunt, on the pre- 
ceding day, had probably lost his way on the prairies. A 
guard of ten men was, therefore, left to take care of the sick, 
and wait for the straggler. If the former recovered sufficiently 
in the course of two or three days, they were to rejoin the 
main body, otherwise to be escorted back to the garrison. 

Taking our leave of the sick camp, we shaped our course 
westward, along the heads of small streams, all wandering, in 
deep ravines, towards the Red Fork. The land was high and 
undulating, or ‘‘rolling,” as it is termed in the West; with a 
poor hungry soil mingled with the sandstone, which is unusal 
in this part of the country, and checkered with harsh forests of 
post-oak and black-jack. 

In the course of the morning, I received a lesson on the im- 
portance of being chary of one’s steed on the prairies. The 
one I rode surpassed in action most horses of the troop, and 
was of great mettle and a generous spirit. In crossing the 
deep ravines, he would scramble up the steep banks like a cat, 
and was always for leaping the narrow runs of water. I was 
not aware of the imprudence of indulging him in such exer- 
tions, until, in leaping him across a small brook, I felt him 
immediately falcer beneath me. He limped forward a short 
distance, but soon fell stark lame, having sprained his shoulder. 
What was to be done? He could not keep up with the troop, 
and was too valuable to bo abandoned on the prairie. The 



60 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



only alternative was to send him back to join the invalids in 
the sick camp, and to share their fortunes. Nobody, however, 
seemed disposed to lead him back, although I offered a liberal 
reward. Either the stories of Tonish about the Pawnees had 
spread an apprehension of lurking foes, and imminent perils on 
the prairies ; or there was a fear of missing the trail and getting 
lost. At length two young men stepped forward and agreed 
to go in company, so that, should they be benighted on the 
prairies, there might be one to watch while the other slept. 

The horse was accordingly consigned to their care, and I 
looked after him with a rueful eye, as he limped off, for it 
seemed as if, with him, all strength and buoyancy had departed 
from me. 

I looked round for a steed to supply his place, and fixed my 
eyes upon the gallant gray which I had transferred at the 
Agency to Tonish. The moment, however, that I hinted about 
his dismounting and taking up with the supernumerary pony, 
the little varlet broke out into vociferous remonstrances and 
lamentations, gasping and almost strangling, in his eagerness 
to give vent to them. I saw that to unhorse him would be to 
prostrate his spirit and cvit his vanity to the quick. I had not 
the heart to inflict such a wound, or to bring down the poor 
devil from his transient vainglory ; so I left him in possession 
of liis gallant gray; and contented myself with shifting my 
saddle to the jaded pony. 

I was now sensible of the complete reverse to which a horse- 
man is exposed on the prairies. I felt how completely the 
spirit of the rider depended upon his steed. I had hitherto 
been able to make excursions at will from the line, and to gallop 
in pursuit of any object of interest or curiosity. I was now 
reduced to the tone of the jaded animal I bestrode, and doomed 
to plod on patiently and slowly after my file leader. Above all, 
I was made conscious how unwise it is, on expeditions of the 
kind, where a man’s life may depend upon the strength, and 
speed, and freshness of his horse, to task the generous animal 
by any imnecessary exertion of his powers. 

I have observed that the wary and experienced huntsman 
and traveller of the prairies is always sparing of his horse, 
when on a journey ; never, except in emergency, putting him 
off of a walk. The regular journeyings of frontiersmen and In- 
dians, when on a long march, seldom exceed above fifteen miles 
a day, and are generally about ten or twelve, and they never 
indulge in capricious galloping. Many of those^ however, with 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



61 



whom I was travelling were young and inexperienced, and full 
of excitement at finding themselves in a country abounding 
with game. It was impossible to retain them in the sobriety of 
a march, or to keep them to the lino. As we broke our way 
through the coverts and ravines, and the deer started up and 
scampered off to the right and left, the rifie balls would whiz 
after them, and our young hunters dash off in pursuit. At one 
time they made a grand burst after what they supposed to be 
a gang of bears, but soon puUed up on discovering them to be 
black wolves, prowling in company. 

After a march of about twelve miles we encamped, a little after 
mid-day, on the borders of a brook which loitered through a 
deep ravine. In the course of the afternoon old Ryan, the 
Nestor of the camp, made his appearance, followed by his little 
band of stragglers. He was greeted with joyful acclamations, 
which showed the estimation in which he was held by his 
brother woodmen. The little band came laden with venison; 
a fine haunch of which the veteran hunter laid, as a present, by 
the Captain’s fire. 

Our men, Beatte and Tonish, both sallied forth, early in the 
afternoon, to hunt. Towards evening the former returned, 
with a fine buck across his horse. He laid it down, as usual, in 
silence, and proceeded to unsaddle and turn his horse loose. 
Tonish came back without any game, but with much more 
glory; having made several capital shots, though unluckily 
the wounded deer had all escaped him. 

There was an abundant supply of meat in the camp; for, 
besides other game, three elk had been killed. The wary and 
veteran woodmen were all busy jerking meat, against a time 
of scarcity; the less experienced revelled in present abund- 
ance, leaving the morrow to provide for itself. 

On the following morning (October 19th), I succeeded in 
changing my pony and a reasonable sum of money for a 
strong and active horse. It was a great satisfaction to find 
myself once more tolerably well mounted. I perceived, how- 
ever, that there would be little difficulty in making a selection 
from among the troop, for the rangers had all that propensity 
for “swapping,” or, as they term it, “trading,” which per- 
vades the West. In the course of our expedition, there was 
scarcely a horse, rifie, powder-horn, or blanket that did not 
change owners several times; and one keen “trader” boasted 
of having, by dint of frequent bargains, changed a bad horse 
into a good one, and put a hundred dollars in his pocket. 



62 



A TOUB ON Tilli] Pli AIRIES. 



The morning was loweiing and sultry, with low muttering 
of distant thunder. The change of weather had its effect upon 
the spirits of the troop. The camp was unusually sober and 
quiet ; there was none of the accustomed farmyard melody of 
crowing and cackling at daybreak; none of the bursts of mer- 
riment, the loud jokes and banterings, that had commonly 
prevailed during the bustle of equipment. Now and then 
might be heard a short strain of a song, a faint laugh, or a soli- 
tary whistle ; but, in general, every one went silently and dog- 
gedly about the duties of the camp, or the preparations for 
departure. 

When the time arrived to saddle and mount, five horses were 
reported as missing; although all the woods and thickets had 
been beaten up for some distance round the camp. Several 
rangers were dispatched to “skir” the country round in quest 
of them. In the meantime, the thunder continued to growl, and 
we had a passing shower. The horses, like their riders, were 
affected by the change of weather. They stood here and there 
about the camp, some saddled and bridled, others loose, but all 
spiritless and dozing, with stooping head, one hind leg partly 
drawn up so as to rest on the point of the hoof, and the whole 
hide reeking with the rain, and sending up wreaths of vapor. 
The men, too, waited in hstless groups the return of their com- 
rades who had gone in quest of the horses ; now and then turn- 
ing up an anxious eye to the drifting clouds, which boded an 
approaching storm. Gloomy weather inspires gloomy thoughts. 
Some expressed fears that we were dogged by some party of 
Indians, who had stolen the horses in the night. The most 
prevalent apprehension, however, was that they had returned 
on their traces to our last encampment, or had started off on 
a direct line for Fort Gibson. In this respect, the instinct of 
horses is said to resemble that of the pigeon. They will strike 
for home by a direct course, passing through tracts of wilder- 
ness which they have never before traversed. 

After delaying until the morning was somewhat advanced, a 
lieutenant with a guard was appointed to await the return of 
the rangers, and we set off on our day’s journey, considerably 
reduced in numbers ; much, as I thought, to the discomposure 
of some of the troop, who intimated that we might prove too 
weak-haixded, in case of an encounter with the Pawnees, 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



63 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THUNDER-STORM ON THE PRAIRIES. —THE STORM ENCAMPMENT.— 
NIGHT SCENE.— INDIAN STORIES.— A FRIGHTENED HORSE. 

Our march for a part of the day ; lay a little to the south of 
west, through straggling forests of the kind of low scrubbed 
trees already mentioned, called “post-oaks” and “black-jacks.” 
The soil of these “oak barrens” is loose and unsound; being 
little better at times than a mere quicksand, in which, in rainy 
weather, the horse’s hoof slips from side to side, and now and 
then sinks in a rotten, spongy turf, to the fetlock. Such was 
the case at present in consequence of successive thunder- 
showers, through which we draggled along in dogged silence. 
Several deer were roused by our approach, and scudded across 
the forest glades ; but no one, as formerly, broke the line of 
march to pursue them. At one time, we passed the bones and 
horns of a buffalo, and at another time a buffalo track, not 
above three days old. These signs of the vicinity of this 
grand game of the prairies, had a reviving effect on the spirits 
of our huntsmen ; but it was of transient duration. 

In crossing a prairie of moderate extent, rendered little bet- 
ter than a slippery bog by the recent showers, we were over- 
taken by a violent thunder-gust. The rain came rattling upon 
us in torrents, and spattered up like steam along the ground ; 
the whole landscape was suddenly wrapped in gloom that gave 
a vivid effect to the intense sheets of lightning, while the thun- 
der seemed to burst over our very heads, and was reverbe- 
rated by the groves and forests that checkered and skirted the 
prairie. Man and beast were so pelted, drenched, and con- 
founded, that the line was thrown in complete confusion ; some 
of the horses were so frightened as to be almost unmanage- 
able, and our scattered cavalcade looked like a tempest-tossed 
fleet, driven hither and thither, at the mercy of wind and 
wave. 

At length, at half -past two o’clock, we came to a halt, and 
gathering together our forces, encamped in an open and lofty 
grove, with a prairie on one side and a stream on the other. 
The forest immediately rang with the sound of the axe, and 
the crash of falling trees. Huge fires were soon blazing; blan- 
kets were stretched before them, by way of tents ; booths were 
hastily reared of bark and skins; every fire had ite group 



64 



A TOUB ON THE PRAIBTES. 



drawn close round it, drying and warming themselves, or pre* 
paring a comforting meal. Some of the rangers were dis- 
charging and cleaning their rifles, which had been exposed to 
the rain ; while the horses, relieved from their saddles and 
burdens, rolled in the wet grass. 

The showers continued from time to time, until late in the 
evening. Before dark, our horses were gathered in and teth- 
ered about the skirts of the camp, within the outposts, through 
fear of Indian prowlers, who are apt to take advantage of 
stormy nights for their depredations and assaults. As the 
night thickened, the huge nres became more and more lumi- 
nous ; lighting up masses of the overhanging foliage, and leav- 
ing other parts of the grove in deep gloom. Every fire had its 
goblin group around it, while the tethered horses were dimly 
seen, like spectres, among the thickets; excepting that here 
and there a gray one stood out in bright relief. 

The grove, thus fitfully lighted up by the ruddy glare of the 
fires, resembled a vast leafy dome, walled in by opaque dark- 
ness ; but every now and then two or three quivering flashes 
of lightning in quick succession, would suddenly reveal a vast 
champaign country, where fields and forests, and running 
streams, would start, as it were, into existence for a few 
brief seconds, and, before the eye could ascertain them, vanish 
again into gloom. 

t A thunder-storm on a prairie, as upon the ocean, derives 
igi'andeur and sublimity from the wild and boundless waste 
over which it rages and bellows. It is not surprising that 
these awful phenomena of nature should be objects of super- 
stitious reverence to the poor savages, and that they should 
consider the thunder the angry voice of the Great Spirit. As 
our half-breeds sat gossiping round the fire, I drew from them 
some of the notions entertained on the subject by their Indian 
friends. The latter declare that extinguished thunderbolts are 
/ sometimes picked up by hunters on the prairies, who use them 
/ for the heads of arrows and lances, and that any warrior thus 
armed is invincible. Should a thunder-storm occur, however, 
during battle, he is liable to be carried away by the thunder, 
and never heard of more. 

^ A warrior of the Konza tribe, hunting on a prairie, was 
, overtaken by a storm, and struck down senseless by the 
. thunder. On recovering, he beheld the thunderbolt lying on 
the ground, and a horse standing beside it. Snatching up the 
bolt, he sprang upon the horse, but found, too late, that he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



on 

was astride of the lightning. In an instant he was whisked 
away over prairies and forests, and streams and deserts, until 
he was flung senseless at the foot of the Rocky Mountains; 
whence, on recovering, it took him several months to return 
to his own people. 

This story reminded me of an Indian tradition, related by a 
traveller, of the fate of a warrior who saw the thunder lying 
upon the ground, with a beautifully wrought moccason on 
each side of it. Thinking he had found a prize, he put on the 
moccasons; but they bore him away to the land of spirits, 
whence he never returned. 

These are simple and artless tales, but they had a wild and 
romantic interest heard from the lips of half-savage narrators, 
round a hunter’s Are, on a stormy night, with a forest on one 
side, and a howling waste on the other ; and where, perad ven- 
ture, savage foes might be lurking in the outer darkness. 

Our conversation was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder, 
followed immediately by the sound of a horse galloping off 
madly into the waste. Every one listened in mute silence. 
The hoofs resounded vigorously for a time, but grew fainter 
and fainter, until they died away in remote distance. 

When the sound was no longer to be heard, the listeners 
turned to conjecture what could have caused this sudden 
scamper. Some thought the horse had been startled by the 
thunder; others, that some lurking Indian had galloped off 
with him. To this it was objected, that the usual mode with 
the Indians is to steal quietly upon the horse, take off his 
fetters, mount him gently, and walk him off as silently as pos- 
sible, leading off others, without any unusual stir or noise to 
disturb the camp. 

On the other hand, it was stated as a common practice with 
the Indians, to creep among a troop of horses when grazing at 
night, mount one quietly, and then start off suddenly at full 
speed. Nothing is so contagious among horses as a panic; one 
sudden break-away of this kind, will sometimes alarm the 
whole troop, and they will set off, helter-skelter, after the 
leader. 

Every one who had a horse grazing on the skirts of the 
camp was uneasy, lest his should be the fugitive ; but it was 
impossible to ascertain the fact until morning. Those who 
had tethered their horses felt more secure; though horses 
thus tied up, and limited to a short range at night, are apt 
to fall ofl in flesh and strength, during a long march; and 



66 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



many of the horses of the troop already gave signs of being 
wayworn. 

After a gloomy and unruly night, the morning dawned 
bright and clear, and a glorious sunrise transformed the whole 
landscape, as if by magic. The late dreary wilderness bright- 
ened into a fine open country, with stately groves, and clumps 
of oaks of a gigantic size, some of which stood singly, as if 
planted for ornament and shade, in the midst of rich meadows ; 
while our horses, scattered about, and grazing under them, 
gave to the whole the air of a noble park. It was difficult to 
realize the fact that we were so far in the wilds beyond the 
residence of man. Our encampment, alone, had a savage 
appearance ; with its rude tents of skins and blankets, and its 
columns of blue smoke rising among the trees. 

The first care in the morning, was to look after our horses. 
Some of them had wandered to a distance, but all were fortu» 
nately found ; even the one whose clattering hoofs had caused 
such uneasiness in the night. He had come to a halt about a 
mile from the camp, and was found quietly grazing near a 
brook. The bvigle sounded for departure about half past eight. 
As we were in greater risk of Indian molestation the farther 
we advanced, our line was formed with more precision than 
heretofore. Every one had his station assigned him, and was 
forbidden to leave it in pursuit of game, without special per- 
mission. The pack-horses were placed in the centre of the 
line, and a strong guard in the rear. 



CHAPTEE XVIII. 

A GRAND PRAIRIE. — CLIFF CASTLE.— BUFFALO TRACKS. — DEER 
HUNTED BY WOLVES. — CROSS TIMBER. 

After a toilsome march of some distance through a country 
cut up by ravines and brooks, and entangled by thickets, we 
emerged upon a grand prairie. Here one of the characteristic 
scenes of the Ear West broke upon us. An immense extent of 
gi’assy, undulating, or, as it is termed, rolling country, with 
here and there a clump of trees, dimly seen in the distance 
like a ship at sea ; the landscape deriving sublimity from its 
vastness and simplicity. To the southwest, on the summit of 



A TOUR ON Tim riiAlltIE8. 



67 



a Mil;, was a singular crest of broken rocks, resembling a 
ruined fortress. It reminded me of the ruin of some Moorish 
castle, crowning a height in the midst of a lonely Spanish 
landscape. To this hill we gave the name of Cliff Castle. 

The praiiies of these great hunting regions differed in 
character of their vegetation from those through whick I had 
hitherto passed. Instead of a profusion of tail flowering 
plants and long flaunting grasses, they were covered with 
a shorter growth of herbage called buffalo grass, somewhat 
coarse, but, at the proper seasons, affording excellent and 
abundant pasturage. At present it was growing wiry, and in 
many places was too much parched for grazing. 

The weather was verging into that serene but somewhat 
arid season called the Indian Summer. There was a smoky 
haze in the atmosphere that tempered the brightness of the 
sunshine into a golden tint, softening the features of the land- 
scape, and giving a vagueness to the outlines of distant 
objects. This haziness was daily increasing, and was attri- 
buted to the burning of distant prairies by the Indian hunting 
parties. 

We had not gone far upon the prairie before we came to 
where deeply worn footpaths were seen traversing the country : 
sometimes two or three would keep on parallel to each other, 
and but a few paces apart. These were pronounced to be 
traces of buffaloes, where largo droves had passed. There 
were tracks also of horses, which were observed with some 
attention by our experienced hunters. They could not be the 
tracks of wild horses, as there were no prints of the hoofs of 
colts ; all were full-grown. As the horses evidently were not 
shod, it was concluded they must belong to some hunting 
party of Pawnees. In the course of the morning, the tracks 
of a single horse, with shoes, were discovered. This might be 
the horse of a Cherokee hunter, or perhaps a horse stolen from 
the whites of the frontier. Thus, in traversing these perilous 
wastes, every footprint and dint of hoof becomes matter of 
cautious inspection and shrewd surmise ; and the question con- 
tinually is, whether it be the trace of friend or foe, whether of 
recent or ancient date, and whether the being that made it bo 
out of reach, or liable to be encountered. 

We were getting more and more into the game country: as 
we proceeded, we repeatedly saw deer to the right and left, 
bounding off for the coverts ; but their appearance no longer 
excited the same eagerness to pursue. In passing along r-. 



68 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



slope of the prairie, between two rolling swells of land, we 
came in sight of a genuine natural hunting match. A pack of 
seven black wolves and one white one were in full chase of a 
buck, which they had nearly tired down. They crossed the 
line of our march without apparently perceiving us ; we saw 
them have a fair run of nearly a mile, gaining upon the buck 
until they were leaping upon his haunches, when he plunged 
down a ravine. Some of our party galloped to a rising ground 
commanding a view of the ravine. The poor buck was com- 
pletely beset, some on his flanks, some at his throat: he made 
two or three struggles and desperate bounds, but was dragged 
down, overpowered, and tom to pieces. The black wolves, in 
their ravenous hunger and fury, took no notice of the distant 
group of horsemen; but the white wolf, apparently less game, 
abandoned the prey, and scampered over hill and dale, rousing 
various deer that were crouched in the hollows, and which 
bounded off likewise in different directions. It was altogether 
a wild scene, worthy of the ‘‘hunting grounds.” 

We now came once more in sight of the Eed Fork, winding 
its turbid course between weU-wooded hills, and through a 
vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on 
the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so 
beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid out by 
the hand of taste ; and they only want here and there a village 
spire, the battlements of a castle, or the turrets of an old 
family mansion rising from among the trees, to rival the most 
ornamented scenery of Europe. 

About midday we reached the edge of that scattered belt of 
forest land, about forty miles in width, which stretches across 
the country from north to south, from the Arkansas to the 
'Red River, separating the upper from the lower prairies, and 
commonly called the “Cross Timber.” On the skirts of this 
forest land, just on the edge of a prairie, we found traces of a 
Pawnee encampment of between one and two hundred lodges, 
showing that the party must have been numerous. The skull 
of a buffalo lay near the camp, and the moss which had gath- 
ered on it proved that the encampment was at least a year old. 
About half a mile off we encamped in a beautiful grove, 
watered by a fine spring and rivulet. Our day’s journey had 
been about fourteen miles. 

In the course of the afternoon we were rejoined by two of 
Lieutenant King’s party, which we had left behind a few days 
before, to look after stray horses, All the horses had been 



A. TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



69 



found, though some had wandered to the distance of several 
miles. The lieutenant, with seventeen of his companions, had 
remained at our last night’s encampment to hunt, having come 
upon recent traces of buffalo. They had also seen a fine wild 
horse, which, however, had galloped off with a speed that 
defied pursuit. 

Confident anticipations were now indulged, that on the fol- 
lowing day we should meet with buffalo, and perhaps with 
wild horses, and every one was in spirits. We needed some 
excitement of the kind, for our young men were growing 
weary of marching and encamping under restraint, and pro- 
visions this day were scanty. The Captain and several of the 
rangers went out hunting, but brought home nothing but a 
small deer and a few turkeys. Our two men, Beatte and 
Tonish, likewise went out. The former returned with a deer 
athwart his horse, which, as usual, he bid down by our lodge, 
and said nothing. Tonish returned with no game, but with 
his customary budget of wonderful tales. Both he and the 
deer had done marvels. Not one had come within the lure of 
his rifle without being hit in a mortal part, yet, strange to say, 
every one had kept on his way without flinching. We all 
determined that, from the accuracy of his aim, Tonish must 
have shot with charmed balls, but that every deer had a 
charmed life. The most important intelligence brought by 
him, however, was, that he had seen the fresh tracks of 
several wild horses. He now considered himself upon the 
eve of great exploits, for there was nothing upon which he 
glorified himself more than his skill in horse-catching. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

hunters’ anticipations.— the rugged ford.— a wild horse. 

October 21st. — This morning the camp was in a bustle at an 
early hour : the expectation of falling in with buffalo in the 
course of the day roused every one’s spirit. There was a 
continual cracking of rifles, that they might be reloaded: 
the shot was drawn off from double-barrelled guns, and balls 
were substituted. Tonish, however, prepared chiefly for a 
campaign against wild horses. He took the field, with a coil 
of cordage hung at his saddle-bow, and a couple of white 



70 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



>vands, something like fishing-rods eight or ten feet in length, 
with forked ends. The coil of cordage thus used in hunting 
the wild horse, is called a lariat, and answers to the lasso of 
South America. It is not fiung, however, in the graceful and 
dexterous Spanish style. The hunter after a hard chase, when 
he succeeds in getting almost head and head with the wild 
horse, hitches the running noose of the lariat over his head by 
means of the forked stick; then letting him have the full 
length of the cord, plays him hke a fish, and chokes him into 
subjection. 

AU this Tonish promised to exernphfy to our full satisfac- 
tion; we had not much confidence in his success, and feared 
he might knock up a good horse in a headlong gallop after 
a bad one, for, like all the French creoles, he was a merciless 
hard rider. It was determined, therefore, to keep a sharp eye 
upon him, and to check his sallying propensities. 

We had not proceeded far on our morning’s march, when we 
were checked by a deep stream, running along the bottom of a 
thickly wooded ravine. After coasting it for a couple of miles, 
we came to a fording place; but to get down to it was the 
difficulty, for the banks were steep and crumbling, and over- 
grown with forest trees, mingled with thickets, brambles, and 
grape-vines. At length the leading horseman broke his way 
through the thicket, and his horse, putting his feet together, 
slid down the black crumbling bank, to the narrow margin of 
the stream ; then floundering across, with mud and water up 
to the saddle-girths, he scrambled up the opposite bank, and 
arrived safe on level ground. The whole line followed pell- 
mell after the leader, and pushing forward in close order, 
Indian file, they crowded each other down the bank and into 
the stream. Some of the horsemen missed the ford, and were 
soused over head and ears; one was unhorsed, and plmnped 
head foremost into the middle of the stream: for my own 
part, while pressed forward, and hurried over the bank by 
those behind me, I was interrupted by a grape-vine, as thick as 
a cable, which hung in a festoon as low as the saddle-bow, and 
dragging me from the saddle, threw me among the feet ©f the 
trampling horses. Fortunately, I escaped without injury, 
regained my steed, crossed the stream without further diffi- 
culty, and was enabled to join in the merriment occasioned by 
the ludicrous disasters. 

It is at passes like this that occur the most dangerous ambus- 
cades and sanguinary surprises of Indian warfare. A party of 



A TOUR OK THE PR AIRIES. 71 

savages well placed among the thickets, might have made sad 
havoc among our men, while entangled in the ravine. 

We now came out upon a vast and glorious prairie, spreading 
out l^eneath the golden beams of an autumnal sun. The deep 
and frequent traces of buffalo, showed it to be one of their 
favoi^ite grazing grounds, yet none were to be seen. In the 
course of the morning ; we were overtaken by the lieutenant 
and seventeen men, who had remained behind, and who came 
laden with the spoils of buffaloes ; having killed three on the 
preceding day. One of the rangers, however, had little luck 
to boast of; his horse having taken fright at sight of the 
buffaloes, thrown his rider, and escaped into the woods. 

The excitement of our hunters, both young and old, now rose 
almost to fever height ; scarce any of them having ever encoun- 
tered any of this far-famed game of the prairies. Accord- 
ingly, when in the course of the day the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! 
rose from one part of the line, the whole troop were thrown in 
agitation. We were just then passing through a beautiful 
part of the prairie, finely diversified by hills and slopes, and 
woody deUs, and high, stately groves. Those who had given 
the alarm, pointed out a large Diack-Iooking animal, slowly 
moving along the side of a rising ground, about two miles off. 
The ever-ready Tonish jumped up, and stood with his feet on 
the saddle, and his forked sticks m his hands, like a posture- 
master or scaramouch at a circus, just ready for a feat of 
horsemanship. After gazing at the animal for a moment, 
which he could have seen full as well without rising from his 
stirrups, he pronounced it a wild horse; and dropping again 
into his saddle, was about to dash off full tilt in pursuit, 
when, to his inexpressible chagrin, he was called back, and 
ordered to keep to his post, in rear of the baggage horses. 

The Captain and two of his officers now set off to recon- 
noitre the game. It was the intention of the Captain, who was 
an admirable marksman, to endeavor to crease the horse ; that 
is to say, to hit him with a rifle Dali in the ridge of the neck. 
A wound of this kind paralyzes a horse for a moment; he falls 
to the ground, and may be secured before he recovers. It is a 
cruel expedient, however, for an ill-directed shot may kill 
or maim the noble animal. 

As the Captain and his companions moved off laterally and 
slowly, in the direction of the horse, we continued our course 
forward; watching intently, however, the movements of the 
game. The horse moved quietly over the profile of the rising 



72 



A TOUR ON Tnr PRAIRIES. 



ground, and disappeared behind it. The Captain and his party 
were likewise soon hidden by an intervening hill. 

After a time, the horse suddenly made his appearance to our 
right, just ahead of the line, emerging out of a small valley, on 
a brisk trot ; having evidently taken the alarm. At sight of us 
he stopped short, gazed at us for an instant with surprise^ then 
tossing up his head, trotted off in fine style, glancing at us first 
over one shoulder, then over the other, his ample mane and 
tail streaming in the wind. Having dashed through a skirt of 
thicket, that looked like a hedge-row, he paused in the open 
field beyond, glanced back at us again, with a beautiful bend 
of the neck, snuffed the air, then tossing his head again, broke 
into a gallop, and took refuge in a wood. 

It was the first time I had ever seen a horse scouring his 
native wilderness in all the pride and freedom of his naturOo 
How different from the poor, mutilated, harnessed, checked, 
reined-up victim of luxury, caprice, and avarice, in our 
cities ! 

After travelling about fifteen miles, we encamped about one 
o’clock, tnat our hunters might have time to procure a supply 
of provisions. Our encampment was in a spacious grove of 
lofty oaks and walnuts, free from underwood, on the border 
of a brook. While unloading the pack-horses, our little 
frenchman was loud in his complaints at having been pre- 
vented from pursuing the wild horse, which he would certainly 
have taken. In the meantime, I saw our half-breed, Beatte, 
quietly saddle his best horse, a powerful steed of haK-savage 
race, hang a lariat at the saddle-bow, take a rifle and forked 
stick in hand, and, mounting, depart from the camp without 
saying a word. It was evident he was going off in quest of the 
wild horse, but was disposed to hunt alone. 



CHAPTER XX. 

The Camp of the Wild Horse. 

hunters’ stories. — HABITS OF THE WILD HORSE. — THE HALF 
BREED AND HIS PRIZE. — A HORSE CHASE. — A WILD SPIRIT TAMED. 

We had encamped in a good neighborhood for game, as 
the reports of rifles in various directions speedily gave notice. 



A TOUli OJ^ THE PUAllilES. 



78 



One of our hunters soon retur: ed with the i leat of a doc, tied 
up in the skin, and slung across hi j shoul lers. Al bher 
brought a fat buck across his horse. Two other deer were 
brought in, and a numbei* of turkeys. All the game was 
thrown down in front of th:! Captain’s fire, to be i ortionc J out 
among the various messes. The spits and camp kettles were 
scon in full employ, and throughout the evening there \ as a 
?cene of hunters’ feasting and profusion. 

We had been disappointed this day in our ?iopes of meeting 
with buffalo, but the sight of the wild horse had been a great 
novelty, and gave a turn to the conversation of the camp for 
the evening. There wrere several anecdotes told of a famous 
gray horse, which has ranged the prairies of this neighborhood 
for six or seven years, setting at naught every attempt of the 
hunters to capture him. They say he can pace and rack (or 
amble) faster than the fleetest horses can run. Equally mar- 
vellous accounts were given of a black horse on the Brazos, 
v/ho gra^zed the prairies on that river’s banks in Texas. For 
years he outstripped all pursuit. His fame spread far and 
wide ; offers were made for him to the amount of a thousand 
dollars; the boldest and most hard-riding hunters tried in- 
cessantly to make prize of him, but in vain. At length he 
fell a victim to his gallantry, being decoyed under a tree by 
a ta.me mare, and a noose dropped over his head by a boy 
perched among the branches. 

The capture of a wild horse is one of the most favorite 
achievements of the prairie tribes ; and, indeed, it is from this 
source that the Indian hunters chiefly supply themselves. 
The wild horses which range those vast grassy plains, extend- 
ing from the Arkansas to the Spanish settlements, are of 
various forms and colors, betraying their various descents. 
Some resemble the common English stock, and are probably 
descended from horses which have escaped from our border 
settlements. Others are of a low but strong make, and are 
supposed to bo of the Andalusian breed, brought out by the 
Spanish discoverers. 

Some fanciful speculatists Lave seen in them descendants of 
the Arab stock, brought into Spain from Africa, and thence 
transferred to this country ; and have pleased themselves with 
the idea, that their sires may have been of the pure coursers of 
the desert, that once bore Mahomet and his warlike disciples 
across the sandy plains of Arabia. 

The habits of the Arab seem to have come with the steed. 



74 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



The introdiiction of the horse on the boundless prairies of the 
Far West, changed the whole mode of hving of their inhabi- 
tants. It gave them that facility of rapid motion, and of sud- 
den and distant change of place, so dear to the roving propen- 
sities of man. Instead of lurking in the depths of gloomy 
forests, and patiently threading the mazes of a tangled wilder- 
ness on foot, hke his brethren of the north, the Indian of the 
West is a rover of tJie plain; he leads a brighter and more 
sunshiny life; almost always on horseback, on vast flowery 
prairies and under cloudless skies. 

I was lying by the Captain’s fire, late in the evening, lis- 
tening to stories about those coursers of the prairies, and 
weaving speculations of my own, when there was a clamor of 
voices and a loud cheering at the other end of the camp ; and 
word was passed that Beatte, the half-breed, had brought in a 
wild horse. 

In an instant every fire was deserted; the whole camp 
crowded to see the Indian and his prize. It was a colt about 
two years old, well grown, finely limbed, with bright promi- 
nent eyes, and a spirited yet gentle demeanor. He gazed 
about him with an air of mingled stupefaction and surprise, 
at the men, the horses, and the camp-fires; while the Indian 
stood before him with folded arms, having hold of the other 
end of the cord which noosed his captive, and gazing on him 
with a most imperturbable aspect. Beatte, as I have before 
observed, has a greenish olive complexion, with «a strongly 
marked countenance, not unlike the bronze casts of Napoleon ; 
and as he stood before his captive horse, with folded arms and 
fixed aspect, he looked more hke a statue than a man. 

If the horse, however, mamifested the least restiveness, 
Beatte would immediately worry him with the lariat, jerking 
him first on one side, then on the other, so as almost to throw 
him on the ground ; when he had thus rendered him passive, 
he would resume his statue-hke attitude and gaze at him in 
silence. 

The whole scene was singularly wild; the tall grove, par- 
tially illumined by the hashing fires of the camp, the horses 
tethered here and there among the trees, the carcasses of deer 
hanging around, and in the midst of all, the wild huntsman 
and his wild horse, with an admiring throng of rangers, 
almost as wild. 

In the eagerness of their excitement, several of the young 
rangers sought to get the horsQ by purchase or barter, and 



A TOUR ON THE PR/ TRIES, 



75 



even offered extravagant terms ; but Beatte declined all their 
offers. “You give great price now said he, “ to-morrow you 
be sorry, and take back, and say d — d Indian !” 

The young men importuned him with questions about the 
mode in which he took the horse, but his answers were dry 
and laconic ; he evidently retained some pique at having been 
undervalued and sneered at by them; and at the same time 
looked down upon them with contempt as greenhorns, httle 
versed in the noble science of woodcraft. 

Afterward, however, when he was seated by our fire, I read- 
ily drew from him an account of his exploit; for, though 
taciturn among strangers, and little prone to boast of his 
actions, yet his taciturnity, hke that of all Indians, had its 
times of relaxation. 

He informed me, that on leaving the camp, he had returned 
to the place where we had lost sight of the wild horse. Soon 
getting upon its track, he followed it to the banks of the river. 
Here, the prints being more distinct in the sand, he perceived 
that one of the hoofs was broken and defective, so he gave up 
the pursuit. 

As he was returning to the camp, he came upon a gang of 
six horses, which immediately made for the river. He pur- 
sued them across the stream, left his rifle on the river bank, 
and putting his horse to full speed, soon came up vAth the 
fugitives. He attempted to noose one of them, but the lariat 
hitched on one of his ears, and he shook it off. The horses 
dashed up a hill, he followed hard at their heels, when, of a 
sudden, he saw their tails whisking in the air, and they 
plunging down a precipice. It was too late to stop. He shut 
his eyes, held in his breath, and went over with them — neck 
or nothing. The descent was between twenty and thirty feet, 
but they ail came down safe upon a sandy bottom. 

He now succeeded in throwing his noose round a fine young 
horse. As he galloped alongside of him, the two horses passed 
each side of a sapling, and the end of the laria^t v/as jeiked out 
of his hand. He regained it, but an intervening tree obliged 
him again to let it go. Having once more caught it, and com- 
ing to a more open country, he was enabled to play the young 
horse with the line until he gradually checked and subdued 
liim, so as to lead him to the place where he had left his rifle. 

He had another formidable difficulty in getting him across 
the river, where both horses stuck for a time in the mire, and 
Beatte was nearly unseated from his saddle by the force of the 



76 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIiilES. 



current and the struggles of his captive. After much toil and 
trouble, however, he got across the stream, and brought his 
prize safe into camp. 

For the remainder of the evening, the camp remained in a 
high state of excitement ; nothing was talked of but the cap- 
ture of wild horses ; every youngster of the troop was for this 
harum-scarum kind of chase ; every one promised himseK to 
return from the campaign in triumph, bestriding one of these 
wild coursers of the prairies. Beatte had suddenly risen to 
great importance ; he was the prime hunter, the hero of the 
day. Offers were made him by the best mounted rangers, 
to let him ride their horses in the chase, provided he would 
give them a share of the spoil. Beatte bore his honors in 
silence, and closed with none of the offers. Our stammering, 
chattering, gasconading little Frenchman, however, made up 
for his taciturnity, by vaunting as much upon the subject as 
if it were he that had caught the horse. Indeed he held forth 
so learnedly in the matter, and boasted so much of the many 
horses he had taken, that he began to be considered an oracle ; 
and some of the youngsters were inclined to doubt whether he 
were not superior even to the taciturn Beatte. 

The excitement kept the camp awake later than usual. The 
hum of voices, interrupted by occasional peals of laughter, was 
heard from the groups around the various fires, and the night 
was considerably advanced before all had sunk to sleep. 

With the morning dawn the excitement revived, and Beatte 
and his wild horse were again the gaze and talk of the camp. 
The captive had been tied all night to a tree among the other 
horses. He was again led forth by Beatte, by a long halter or 
lariat, and, on his manifesting the least restiveness, was, as 
before, jerked and worried into passive submission. He ap- 
peared to be gentle and docile by nature, and had a beautifully 
mild expression of the eye. In his strange and forlorn situa- 
tion, the poor animal seemed to seek protection and companion- 
ship in the very horse which had aided to capture him. 

Seeing him thus gentle and tractable, Beatte, just as we were 
about to march, strapped a light pack upon his back, by way 
of giving him the first lesson in servitude. The native pride 
and independence of the animal took fire at this indignity. 
He reared, and plunged, and kicked, and tried in every way to 
get rid of the degrading burden. The Indian was too potent 
for him. At every paroxysm he renewed the discipline of the 
halter, until the poor animal, driven to despair, threw himself 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



77 



prostrate on the ground, and lay motionless, as if acknowl- 
edging himself vanquished. A stage hero, representing the 
despair of a captive prince, could not have played his part 
more dramatically. There was absolutely a moral grandeur 
in it. 

The imperturbable Beatte folded his arms, and stood for a 
time, looking down in silence upon his captive; until seeing 
him perfectly subdued, he nodded his head slowly, screwed his 
mouth into a sardonic smile of triumph, and, with a jerk of 
the halter, ordered him to rise. He obeyed, and from that 
time forward offered no resistance. During that day he bore 
his pack patiently, and was led by the halter ; but in two days 
he followed voluntarily at large among the supernumerary 
horses of the troop. 

I could not look without compassion upon this fine young 
animal, whose whole course of existence had been so suddenly 
reversed. From being a denizen of these vast pastures, rang- 
ing at will from plain to plain and mead to mead, cropping of 
every herb and fiower, and drinking of every stream, he was 
suddenly reduced to perpetual and painful servitude, to pass 
his life under the harness and the curb, amid, perhaps, the din 
and dust and drudgery of cities. The transition in his lot was 
such as sometimes takes place in human affairs, and in the for- 
tunes of towering individuals : — one day, a prince of the prai- 
ries— the next day, a pack-horse ! 



CHAPTEE XXI. 

THE FORDING OF THE RED FORK. — THE DREARY FORESTS OF THE 
‘ ‘ CROSS TIMBER. ” — BUFFALO ! 

We left the camp of the wild horse about a quarter before 
eight, and, after steering nearly south for three or four miles, 
arrived on the banks of the Eed Fork, about seventy-five 
miles, as we supposed, above its mouth. The river was about 
three hundred yards wide, wandering among sand-bars and 
shoals. Its shores, and the long sandy banks that stretched 
out into the stream, were printed, as usual, with the traces of 
various animals that had come down to cross it, or to drink its 
waters. 



78 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



Here we came to a halt, and there was much consultation 
about the possibility of fording the river with safety, as there 
was an apprehension of quicksands. Beatte, who had been 
somewhat in the rear, came up while we were debating. He 
was mounted on his horse of the half-wild breed, and leading 
his captive by the bridle. He gave the latter in charge to To- 
nish, and without saying a word, urged his horse into the 
stream, and crossed it in safety. Every thing was done by this 
man in a similar way, promptly, resolutely, and silently, with- 
out a previous promise or an after vaunt. 

The troop now followed the lead of Beatte, and reached the 
opposite shore without any mishap, though one of the pack- 
horses wandering a little from the track, came near being 
swallowed up in a quicksand, and was with difficulty dragged 
to land. 

After crossing the river, we had to force our way, for nearly 
a mile, through a thick canebrake, which, at first sight, ap- 
peared an impervious mass of reeds and brambles. It was a 
hard struggle ; our horses were often to the saddle-girths in 
mire and water, and both horse and horseman harassed and 
torn by bush and brier. Falling, however, upon a buffalo 
track, we at length extricated ourselves from this morass, and 
ascended a ridge of land, where we beheld a beautiful open 
country before us ; while to our right, the belt of forest land, 
called “The Cross Timber,” continued stretching away to the 
southward, as far as the eye could reach. We soon abandoned 
the open country, and struck into the forest land. It was the 
intention of the Captain to keep on southwest by south, and 
traverse the Cross Timber diagonally, so as to come out upon 
the edge of the great western prairie. By thus maintaining 
something of a southerly direction, he trusted, while he crossed 
the belt of the forest, he would at the same time approach the 
Bed Eiver. 

The plan of the Captain was judicious; but he erred from 
not being informed of the nature of the country. Had he 
kept directly west, a couple of days would have carried us 
through the forest land, and we might then have had an easy 
course along the skirts of the upper prairies, to Bed Biver; by 
going diagonally, we were kept for many weary days toiling 
through a dismal series of rugged forests. 

The Cross Timber is about forty miles in breadth, and 
stretches over a rough country of rolling hills, covered with 
scattered tracts of post-oak and black-jack ; wuth some inter 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



79 



vening valleys, which, at proper seasons, would afford good 
pasturage. It is very much cut up by deep ravines, wliich, in 
the rainy seasons, are the beds of temporary streams, tribu- 
tary to the main rivers, and these are called ‘‘ branches.” The 
whole tract may present a pleasant aspect in the fresh time of 
the year, when the ground is covered with herbage ; when the 
trees are in their green leaf, and the glens are enlivened by 
running streams. Unfortunately, we entered it too late in the 
season. The herbage Avas parched; the foliage of the scrubby 
forests was withered ; the whole woodland prospect, as far as 
the eye could reach, had a, brown and arid hue. The fires 
made on the prairies *by the Indian hunters, had frequently 
penetrated these forests, sweeping in light transient flames 
along the dry grass, scorching and calcining the lower twigs 
and branches of the trees, and leaving them black and hard, so 
as to tear the flesh of man and horse that had to scramble 
through them. I shall not easily forget the mortal toil, and 
the vexations of flesh and spirit, that we underwent occasion- 
ally, in our wanderings through the Cross Timber. It was 
like struggling through forests of cast iron. 

After a tedious ride of several miles, we came out upon an 
open tract of hill and dale, interspersed with woodland. Here 
we were roused by the cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! The effect was 
something like that of the cry of a sail ! a sail ! at sea. It was 
not a false alarm. Three or four of those enormous animals 
were visible to our sight grazing on the slope of a distant hill. 

There was a general movement to set off in pursuit, and 
it was with some difnculty that the vivacity of the younger 
men of the troop could be restrained. Leaving orders that 
the line of march should be preserved, the Captain and two 
of his officers departed at quiet a pace, accompanied by Beatte, 
and by the ever-f orward Tonish ; for it was impossible any 
longer to keep the little Frenchman in check, being half crazy 
to prove his skill and prowess in hunting the buffalo. 

The intervening hills soon hid from us both the game and 
the huntsmen. We kept on our course in quest of a camp- 
ing place, which was difficult to be found; almost all the 
channels of the streams being dry, and the coimtry being des- 
titute of fountain heads. 

After proceeding some distance, there was again a cry of 
buffalo, and two were pointed out on a hill to the left. The 
Captain being absent, it was no longer possible to restrain the 
ardor of the young hunters. Away several of them dashed. 



80 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 



full speed, and soon disappeared among the ravines; the rest 
kept on, anxious to find a proper place for encampment. 

Indeed we now began to experience the disadvantages of the 
season. The pasturage of the prairies was scanty and parched; 
the pea-vines which grew in the woody bottoms were withered, 
and most of the ‘‘branches” or streams were dried up. While 
wandering in this perplexity, we were overtaken by the Cap- 
tain and all his party, except Tonish. They had pursued the 
buffalo for some distance without getting within shot, and had 
given up the chase, being fearful of fatiguing their horses, or 
being led off too far from camp. The little Frenchman, how- 
ever, had galloped after them at headlong speed, and the 
last they saw of him, he was engaged, as it were, yard-arm 
and yard-arm, with a great buffalo bull, firing broadsides into 
him. “I tink dat little man crazy — somehow,” observed 
Beatte, dryly. 



CHAPTEE XXII. 

THE ALARM CAMP. 

We now came to a halt, and had to content ourselves with 
an indifferent encampment. It was in a grove of scruboaks, 
on the borders of a deep ravine, at the bottom of which were 
a few scanty pools of water. We were just at the foot of 
a gradually-sloping hill, covered with half-withered grass, that 
afforded meagre pasturage. In the spot where we had en- 
camped, the grass was high and parched. The view around us 
was circumscribed and much shut in by gently swelling hills. 

Just as we were encamping, Tonish arrived, all glorious, 
from his hunting match ; his white horse hung aU round with 
buffalo meat. According to his own account, he had laid low 
two mighty buUs. As usual, we deducted one half from his 
boastings; but, now that he had something real to vaunt 
about, there was no restraining the valor of his tongue. 

After having in some measure appeased his vanity by boast- 
ing of his exploit, he informed us that he had observed the 
fresh track of horses, which, from various circumstances, he 
suspected to have been made by some roving band of Pawnees. 
This caused some little uneasiness. The young men who 
had left the line of march in pursuit of the two buffaloes, had 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



81 

not yet rejoined us ; apprehensions were expressed that they 
might be waylaid and attacked. Our veteran hunter, old 
Kyan, also, immediately on our halting to encamp, had gone 
off on foot, in company with a young disciple. Dat old man 
will have his brains knocked out by de Pawnees yet,” saio 
Beatte. ^‘He tink he know every ting, but he don’t knov& 
Pawnees, anyhow.” 

Taking his rifle, the Captain repaired on foot to reconnoitre 
the country from the naked summit of one of the neighbor 
ing hills. In the meantime, the horses were hobbled anU 
turned loose to graze ; and wood was cut, and fires made, to 
prepare the evening’s repast. 

Suddenly there was an alarm of fire in the camp ! The flame 
from one of the kindling fires had caught to the taU dry grass; 
a breeze was blowing; there was danger that the camp would 
soon be wrapped in a light blaze. Look to the horses !” cried 
one; “Drag away the baggage!” cried another. “Take care 
of the rifles and powder-horns !” cried a third. All was hurry- 
scurry and uproar. The horses dashed wildly about; some 
of the men snatched away rifles and powder-horns, others 
dragged off saddles and saddle-bags. Meantime, no one 
thought of quelling the fire, nor indeed knew how to quell it. 
Beatte, however, and his comrades attacked it in the Indian 
mode, beating down the edges of the fire with blankets and 
horse-cloths, and endeavoring to prevent its spreading among 
the grass ; the rangers followed their example, and in a little 
while the flames were happily quelled. 

The fires were now properly kindled on places from which 
the dry grass had been cleared avfay. The horses were scat- 
tered about a small valley, and on the sloping hill -side, crop- 
ping the scanty herbage. Tonish was preparing a sumptuous 
evening’s meal from his buffalo meat, promising us a rich soup 
and a prime piece of roast beef: but we were doomed to ex- 
perience another and more serious alarm. 

There was an indistinct cry from some rangers on the sum- 
mit of the hill, of which we could only distinguish the words, 
“ The horses 1 the horses ! get in the horses 1” 

Immediately a clamor of voices arose ; shouts, inquiries, re- 
plies, were all mingled together, so that nothing could be 
clearly understood, and every one drew his own inference. 

“ The Captain has started buffaloes,” cried one, “and wants 
horses for the chaise.” Immediately a number of rangers 
seized their rifles, and scampered for the hill-top. “The prar 



82 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 



rie is on fire beyond the hill,” cried another; see the 
smoke— the Captain means we shall drive the horses beyond 
the brook.” 

By this time a ranger from the hiU had reached the skirts of 
the camp. He was almost breathless, and could only say that 
the Captain had seen Indians at a distance. 

‘‘Pawnees! Pawnees!” was now the cry among our wild- 
headed youngsters. “ Drive the horses into camp!” cried one. 
“Saddle the horses !” cried another. “ Form the line !” cried a 
third. There was now a scene of clamor and confusion that 
baffles aU description. The rangers were scampering about 
the adjacent field in pursuit of their horses. One might be 
seen tugging his steed along by a halter ; another without a 
hat, riding bare-backed; another driving a hobbled horse be- 
fore him, that made awkward leaps like a kangaroo. 

The alarm increased. Word was brought from the lower 
end of the camp that there was a band of Pawnees in a neigh- 
boring valley. They had shot old Ryan through the head, and 
were chasing his companion! “No, it v/as not old Ryan that 
was killed— it was one of the hunters that had been after the 
two buffaloes.” “ There are three hundred Pawnees just be- 
yond the hill,” cried one voice. “ More, more !” cried another. 

Our situation, shut in among hills, prevented our seeing to 
any distance, and left us a prey to all these rumors. A cruel 
enemy was supposed to be at hand, and an immediate attack 
apprehended. The horses by this time were driven into the 
camp, and were dashing about among the fires, and trampling 
upon the baggage. Every one endeavored to prepare for 
action ; but here was the perplexity. During the late alarm of 
fire, the saddles, bridles, rifles, powder-horns, and other equip- 
ments, had been snatched out of their places, and thrown 
helter-skelter among the trees. 

“ Where is my saddle?” cried one. “ Has any one seen my 
rifle?” cried another. “Who will lend me a ball?” cried a 
third, who was loading his piece.' “I have lost my bullet 
pouch.” “ For God’s sake help me to girth this horse!” cried 
another: “ he’s so restive I can do nothing with him,” In his 
hurry and worry, he had put on the saddle the hind part be- 
fore! 

Some affected to swagger and talk bold ; others said nothing, 
but went on steadily, preparing their horses and weapons, and 
on these I felt the niost reliance. Some were evidently excited 
ajpd elated with the idea of an encounter with Indians ; and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



83 



none more so than my young Swiss fellow-traveller, who had a 
passion for wild adventure. Our man, Beatte, led his horses 
in the rear of the camp, placed his rifle against a tree, then 
seated himself by the fire in perfect silence. On the other 
hand, little Tonnish, who was busy cooking, stopped every 
moment from his work to play the fanfaron, singing, swear- 
ing, and affecting an unusual hilarity, which made me strong- 
iy suspect there was some little fright at bottom, to cause all 
this effervescence. 

About a dozen of the rangers, as soon as they could saddle 
their horses, dashed off in the direction in which the Pawnees 
were said to have attacked the hunters. It was now deter- 
mined, in case our camp should be assailed, to put our horses 
in the ravine in the rear, where they would be out of danger 
from arrow or rifle-ball, and to take our stand within the edge 
of the ravine. This would serve as a trench, and the trees and 
thickets with which it was bordered, would be sufficient to 
turn aside any shaft of the enemy. The Pawnees, besides, are 
wary of attacking any covert of the kind ; their warfare, as I 
have already observed, lies in the open prairie, where, mounted 
upon their fleet horses, they can swoop like hawks upon their 
enemy, or wheel about him and discharge their arrows. Still 
I could not but perceive, that, in case of being attacked by 
such a niunber of these well-mounted and war-like savages as 
were said to be at hand, we should be exposed to considerable 
risk from the inexperience and want of discipline of our newly 
raised rangers, and from the very courage of many of the 
younger ones who seemed bent on adventure and exploit. 

By this time the Captain reached the camp, and every one 
crowded round him for information. He informed us, that 
he had proceeded some distance on his reconnoitring expedi- 
tion, and was slowly returning toward the camp, along the 
brow of a naked hill, when he saw something on the edge of a 
parallel hill, that looked like a man. He paused and watched 
it ; but it remained so perfectly motionless, that he supposed it 
a bush, or the top of some tree beyond the hill. He resumed 
liis course, when it likewise began to move in a parallel direc- 
tion. Another form now rose beside it, of some one who had 
either been lying down, or had just ascended the other side of 
the hill. The Captain stopped and regarded them; they like- 
wise stopped. He then lay down upon the grass, and they 
began to walk. On his rising, they again stopped, as if watch- 
ing him. Knowing that the Indians are apt to have their spies 



84 



A TOUE ON THE PEAIUIES. 



and sentinels thus posted on the summit of naked hills, com- 
manding extensive prospects, his doubts were increased by the 
suspicious movements of these men. He now put his foraging 
cap on the end of his rifle, and waved it in the air. They took no 
notice of the signal. He then walked on, until he entered the 
edge of a wood, which concealed him from their view. Stop- 
ping out of sight for a moment, he again looked forth, when 
he saw the two men passing swiftly forward. As the hill on 
which they were walking made a curve toward that on which 
he stood, it seemed as if they were endeavoring to head him 
before he should reach the camp. Doubting whether they 
might not belong to some large party of Indians, either in 
ambush or moving along the valley beyond the hill, the Cap- 
tain hastened his steps homeward, and, descrying some rangers 
on an eminence between him and the camp, he called out to 
them to pass the word to have the horses driven in, as these 
are generally the first objects of Indian depredation. 

Such was the origin of the alarm which had thrown the 
camp in commotion. Some of those who heard the Captain’s 
narration, had no doubt that the men on the hill were Pawnee 
scouts, belonging to the band that had waylaid the hunters. 
Distant shots were heard at intervals, which were supposed to 
be fired by those who had sallied out to rescue their comrades. 
Several more rangers, having completed their equipments, 
now rode forth in the direction of the firing; others looked 
anxious and uneasy. 

“ If they are as numerous as they are said to be,” said one, 

and as well mounted as they generally are, we shall be a bad 
match for them with our jaded horses.” 

‘‘Well,” replied the Captain, “we have a strong encamp- 
ment, and can stand a siege.” 

“Ay, but they may set fire to the prairie in the night, and 
burn us out of our encampment.” 

“We will then set up a counter-fire !” 

The word was now passed that a man on horseback ap- 
proached the camp. 

“ It is one of the hunters ! It is Clements ! He bring-s buffalo 
meat !” was announced by several voices as the horseman drew 
near. 

It was, in fact, one of the rangers who had set off in the 
morning in pursuit of the two buffaloes. He rode into the camp, 
with the spoils of the chase hanging round his horse, and fol- 
lowed by his companions, all sound and unharmed, and equally 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



8S 



well laden. They proceeded to give an account of a grand 
gallop they had had after the two buffaloes, and how many 
shots it had cost them to bring one to the ground. 

‘‘Well, but the Pawnees— the Pawnees — where are the 
Pawnees?” 

“ What Pawnees?” 

“The Pawnees that attacked you.” 

“No one attacked us.” 

“ But have you seen no Indians on your way?” 

“ Oh yes, t^vo of us got to the top of a hill to look out for the 
camp, and saw a fellow on an opposite hill cutting queer an- 
tics, who seemed to be an Indian.” 

“Pshaw! that was I!” said the Captain. 

Here the bubble burst. The whole alarm had risen from 
this mutual mistake of the Captain and the two rangers. As 
to the report of the three hundred Pawnees and their attack 
on the hunters, it proved to be a wanton fabrication, of which 
no further notice was taken; though the author deserved to 
have been sought out, and severely punished. 

There being no longer any prospect of fighting, every one 
now thought of eating; and here the stomachs throughout the 
camp were in unison. Tonish served up to us his promised 
regale of buffalo soup and buffalo beef. The soup was pep- 
pered most horribly, and the roast beef proved the buU to have 
been one of the patriarchs of the prairies ; never did I have to 
deal with a tougher morsel. However, it was our first repast 
on buffalo meat, so we ate it with a lively faith ; nor would our 
little Frenchman allow us any rest, until he had extorted from 
us an acknowledgment of the excellence of his cookery ; though 
the pepper gave us the lie in our throats. 

The night closed in without the return of old Eyan and his 
companion. We had become accustomed, however, to the 
aberrations of this old cock of the woods, and no further solici 
tude was expressed on his account. 

After the fatigues and agitations of the day, the camp soon 
sunk into a profound sleep, excepting those on guard, who were 
more than usually on the alert ; for the traces recently seen 
of Pawnees, and the certainty that we were in the midst of 
their hunting grounds, excited to constant vigilance. About 
half past ten o’clock we were all startled from sleep by a new 
alarm. A sentinel had fired off his rifle and run into camp, 
crying that there were Indians at hand. 

Every one was on his legs in an instant. Some seized their 



86 



A TOUR OJV THE PRAIRIES 



rifles ; some were about to saddle their horses ; some hastened 
to the Captain’s lodge, but were ordered back to their respec- 
tive fires. The sentinel was examined. He declared he had 
seen an Indian approach, crawling along the ground ; where- 
upon he had fired upon him, and run into camp. The Cap- 
tain gave it as his opinion, that the supposed Indian was a 
wolf ; he reprimanded the sentinel for deserting his post, and 
obliged him to return to it. Many seemed inclined to give 
credit to the story of the sentinel ; for the events of the day 
had predisposed them to apprehend lurking foes and sudden 
assaults during the darkness of the night. For a long time 
they sat round their fires, with rifle in hand, carrying on low, 
murmuring conversations, and listening for some new alarm. 
Nothing further, however, occurred; the voices gradually died 
away ; the gossipers nodded and dozed, and sunk to rest ; and, 
by degrees, silence and sleep once more stole over the camp. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

BEAVER DAM. BUFFALO AND HORSE TRACKS. — A PAWNEE 

TRAIL. — Vv^ILD HORSES. — THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE BEAR. 

— CHANGE OF ROUTE. 

On mustering our forces in the morning (October 23d), old 
Ryan and his comrade were still missing ; but the Captain had 
such perfect reliance on the skill and resources of the veteran 
woodsman, that he did not think it necessary to take any 
measures with respect to hun. 

Our march this day lay through the same kind of rough 
rolling country ; checkered by brown dreary forests of post- 
oak, and cut up by deep dry ravines. The distant fires were 
evidently increasing on the prairies. The wind had been at 
northwest for several days ; and the atmosphere had become 
30 smoky, as in the height of Indian summer, that it was diffi- 
cult to distinguish objects at any distance. 

In the course of the morning, we crossed a deep stream with 
a complete beaver dam, above three feet high, making a large 
pond, and doubtless containing several families of that indus- 
trious animal, though not one showed his nose above water. 
The Captain would not permit tliis amphibious commonwealth 
to be disturbed. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



87 



We were now continually coming upon the tracks of buf- 
faloes and wild horses ; those of the former tended invariably 
to the south, as we could perceive by the direction of the tram- 
pled grass. It was evident we were on the great highway of 
these migratory herds, but that they had cliiefly passed to the 
southward. 

Beatte, who generally kept a parallel course several hundred 
yards distant from our line of march, to be on the lookout for 
game, and who regarded every track with the knowing eye 
of an Indian, reported that he had come upon a very suspi- 
cious trail. There were the tracks of men who wore Pawnee 
moccasons. He had scented the smoke of mingled sumach and 
tobacco, such as the Indians use. He had observed tracks of 
horses, mingled with those of a dog ; and a mark in the dust 
where a cord had been trailed along; probably the long bridle, 
one end of which the Indian horsemen suffer to trail on the 
ground. It was evident, they were not the tracks of wild 
horses. My anxiety began to revive about the safely of our 
veteran hunter Ryan, for I had taken a great fancy to this 
real old Leatherstocking; every one expressed a confidence, 
however, that wherever Ryan was, he was safe, and knew 
how to take care of himself. 

We had accomplished the greater part of a weary day’s 
march, and were passing through a glade of the oak openings, 
when we came in sight of six wild horses, among which I 
especially noticed two very handsome ones, a gray and a roan. 
They pranced about, with heads erect, and long flaunting tails, 
offering a proud contrast to our poor, spiritless, travel-tired 
steeds. Having reconnoitred us for a moment, they set off 
at a gallop, passed through a woody dingle, and in a little 
while emerged once more to view, trotting up a slope about 
a mile distant. 

The sight of these horses was again a sore trial to the vapor- 
ing Tonish, who had his lariat and forked stick ready, and was 
on the point of launching forth in pursuit, on his jaded horse, 
when he was aga.in ordered back to the pack-horses. After a 
day’s journey of fourteen miles in a southwest direction, we 
encamped on the banks of a small clear stream, on the north- 
ern border of the Cross Timber; and on the edge of those 
vast prairies, that extend away to the foot of the Rocky Moun- 
tains. In turning loose the horses to graze, their bells were 
stuffed with grass to prevent their tinkling, lest it might ba 
hoard by some waxidering horde of PawneeSe 



88 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



Our hunters now went out in different directions, but with* 
out much success, as hut one deer was brought into the camp. 
A. young ranger had a long story to tell of his adventures. In 
skirting the thickets of a deep ravine he had wounded a buck, 
which he plainly heard to fall among the bushes. He stopped 
to fix the lock of his rifle, which was out of order, and to reload 
it ; then advancing to the edge of the thicket, in quest of his 
game, he heard a low growling. Putting the branches aside, 
and stealing silently forward, he looked down into the ravine 
and beheld a huge bear dragging the carcass of the deer along 
the dry channel of a brook, and growling and snarling at four 
or five officious wolves, who seemed to have dropped in to take 
supper with him. 

The ranger fired at the bear, but missed him. Bruin main- 
tained his ground and his prize, and seemed disposed to make 
battle. The wolves, too, who were evidently sharp set, drew 
off to but a small distance. As night was coming on, the 
young hunter felt dismayed at the wildness and darkness of 
the place, and the strange company he had fallen in with ; so 
he quietly withdrew, and returned empty handed to the camp, 
where, having told his story, he was heartily bantered by his 
more experienced comrades. 

In the course of the evening, old Eyan came straggling into 
the camp, followed by his disciple, and as usual was received 
with hearty gratulations. He had lost himself yesterday, when 
hunting, and camped out aU night, but had found our trail in 
the morning, and followed it up. He had passed some time at 
the beaver dam, admiring the skill and solidity with which it 
had been constructed. ‘‘These beavers,” said he, “ are indus- 
trious little fellows. They are the knowingest varment as I 
know; and I warrant the pond was stocked with them.” 

“Aye,” said the Captain, “I have no doubt most of the 
small rivers we have passed are full of beaver. I would like 
to come and trap on these waters all winter.” 

“ But would you not run the chance of being attacked by 
Indians?” asked one of the company. 

“Oh, as to that, it would be safe enough here, in the winter 
time. There would be no Indians here until spring. I should 
want no more than two companions. Three persons are safer 
than a large number for trapping beaver. They can keep 
quiet, and need seldom fire a gun. A bear would serve them 
for food, for two months, taking care to turn every part of it 
to advantage.” » 



A TOUR ON TUE PRAIRIES. 



89 



A consultation was now held as to our future progress. We 
had thus far pursued a western course ; and, having traversed 
the Gross Timber, were on the skirts of the Great Western 
Prairie. We were still, however, in a very rough country, 
where food was scarce. The season was so far advanced that 
the grass was withered, and the prairies yielded no pasturage. 
The pea-vines of the bottoms, also, which had sustained our 
horses for some part of the journey, were nearly gone, and for 
several days past the poor animals had fallen off wofully both 
in flesh asnd spirit. The Indian fires on the prairies were 
approaching us from north, and south, and west ; they might 
spread also from the east, and leave a scorched desert between 
us and the frontier, in which our horses might be famished. 

It was determined, therefore, to advance no further to the 
westward, but to shape our course more to the east, so as to 
strike the north fork of the Canadian, as soon as possible, where 
we hoped to find abundance of young cane, which, at this sea- 
son of the year, affords the most nutritious pasturage for the 
horses ; and, at the same time, attracts immense quantities of 
game. Here then we fixed the limits of our tour to the Far 
West, being within httle more than a day’s march of the boun- 
dary line of Texas. 



[CHAPTEE XXIV. 

SCARCITY OF BREAD.— RENCONTRE WITH BUFFALOES. — WILD TUR- 
KEYS.— FALL OF A BUFFALO BULL. 

The morning broke bright and clear, but the camp had noth-- 
ing of its usual gayety. The concert of the farmyard was at 
an end ; not a cock crew, nor dog barked ; nor was there either 
singing or laughing; every one pursued his avocations quietly 
and gravely. The novelty of the expedition was wearing off. 
Some of the young men were getting as way-worn as their 
horses ; and most of them, unaccustomed to the hunter’s life, 
began to repine at its privations. What they most felt was 
the want of bread, their rations of flour having been exliausted 
for several days. The old hunters, who had often experienced 
this want, made light of it; and Beatte, accustomed when 
among the Indians to live for months without it, considered it 
a mere article of luxury. “Bread,” he would say scornfully, 
“is only fit for a child.” 



90 



A TOUR ON THE PRzMRIES. 



About a quarter before eight o’clock, we turned our backs 
upon the Far West, and set off in a southeast course, along a 
gentle valley. After riding a few miles, Beatte, who kept 
parallel with us, along the ridge of a naked hill to our right, 
called out and made signals, as if something were coming 
round the hill to intercept us. Some who were near me cried 
out that it v/as a party of Pav/nees. A skirt of thickets hid 
the approach of the supposed enemy from our view. We 
heard a trampling among the brushwood. My hoi*se looked 
toward the place, snorted and pricked up his ears, when pres- 
ently a couple of large buffalo bulls, who had been alarmed by 
Beatte, came crashing through the brake, and making directly 
toward us. At sight of us they wheeled round, and scuttled 
along a narrow defile of the hiU. In an instant half a score 
of rifles cracked off ; there was a universal whoop and halloo, 
and away went half the troop, helter-skelter in pursuit, and 
myself among the number. The most of us soon pulled up, 
and gave over a chase which led through birch and brier, and 
break-neck ravines. Some few of the rangers persisted for 
a time; but eventually joined the line, slowly lagging one 
after another. One of them returned on foot; he had been 
thrown while in full chase ; his rifle had been broken in the 
fall, and his horse, retaining the spirit of the rider, had kept 
on after the buffalo. It was a melancholy predicament to be 
reduced to; without horse or weapon in the midst of the 
Pawnee hunting grounds. 

For my own part, I had been fortunate enough recently, by 
a further exchange, to get possession of the best horse in the 
troop; a full-blooded sorrel of excellent bottom, beautiful 
form, and most generous qualities. 

In such a situation it almost seems as if a man changes his 
nature with his horse. I felt quite like another being, now 
that I had an animal under me, spirited yet gentle, docile to 
a remarkable degree, and easy, elastic, and rapid in all his 
movements. In a few days he became almost as much at- 
tached to me as a dog; would follow me when I dismounted,' 
would come to mo in the morning to be noticed and caressed ; 
and would put his muzzle between me and my book, as I sat 
reading at the foot of a tree. The feeling I had for this my 
dumb companion of the prairies, gave me some faint idea of 
that attachment the Arab is said to entertain for the horse 
that has borne him about the deserts. 

After riding a few miles further, we came to a fine meadow 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



91 



with a broad clear stream winding through it, on the banks of 
which there was excellent pasturage. Here we at once came 
to a halt, in a beautiful grove of elms, on the site of an old 
Osage encampment. Scarcely had we dismounted, when a 
universal firing of rifles took place upon a large flock of tur- 
keys, scattered about the grove, which proved to be a favorite 
roosting-place for these simple birds. They flew to the trees, 
and sat perched upon their branches, stretching out their long 
necks, and gazing in stupid astonishment, until eighteen of 
them were shot down. 

In the height of the carnage, word was brought that there 
were four buffaloes in a neighboring meadow. The turkeys 
were now abandoned for nobler game. The tired horses were 
again mounted, and urged to the chase. In a little vHiile we 
came in sight of the buffaloes, looking like brown hillocks 
among the long green herbage. Beatte endeavored to get 
ahead of them and turn them towards us, that the inexpen- 
enced hunters might have a chance. They ran round the base 
of a rocky hill, that hid us from the sight. Some of us en- 
deavored to cut across the hill, but became entrapped in a 
thick wood, matted with grape-vines. My horse, who, imder 
his former rider, had hunted the buffalo, seemed as much 
excited as myself, and endeavored to force his way through 
the bushes. At length we extricated ourselves, and galloping 
over the hill^ I found our little Frenchman, Tonish, curvetting 
on horseback round a great buffalo which he had wounded too 
severely to fly, and which he was keeping employed until we 
should come up. There was a mixture of the grand and the 
comic, in beholding this tremendous animal and his fantastic 
assailant. The buffalo stood with his shaggy front always 
presented to his foe ; his mouth open, his tongue parched, his 
eyes like coals of fire, and his tail erect with rage ; every now 
and then he would make a faint rush upon his foe, who easily 
evaded his attack, capering and cutting all kinds of antics 
before him. 

• We now made repeated shots at the buffalo, but they 
glanced into his mountain of flesh without proving mortal. 
He made a slow and grand retreat into the shallow river, 
turning upon his assailants whenever they pressed upon him ; 
and when in the Avater, took his stand there as if prepared to 
sustain a siege. A rifle-ball, however, more fatally lodged, 
sent a tremor through his frame. He turned and attempted 
to wade across the stream, but after tottering a few paces^, 



92 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



slowly fell upon his side and expired. It was the fall of a hero, 
and we felt somewhat ashamed of the butchery that had 
effected it ; but, after the first shot or two, we had reconciled 
ifc to our feelings, by the old plea of putting the poor animal 
out of his miseiy. 

Two other buffaloes were killed this evening, but they were 
all bulls, the flesh of which is meagre and hard, at this season 
of the year. A fat buck yielded us more savory meat for our 
evening’s repast. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

RINGING THE WILD HORSE. 

We left the buffalo camp about eight o’clock, and had a 
toilsome and harassing march of two hours, over ridges of 
hills, covered with a ragged meagre forest of scrub-oaks, and 
broken by deep gullies. Among the oaks I observed many of 
the most diminutive size; some not above a foot high, yet 
bearing abundance of small acorns. The whole of the Cross 
Timber, in fact, abounds with mast. There is a pine-oak which 
produces an acorn pleasant to the taste, and ripening early in 
the season. 

About ten o’clock in the morning, we came to where this line 
of rugged hills swept down into a valley, through which flowed 
the north fork of the Red River. A beautiful meadow about 
half a mile wide, enamelled with yellow autumnal flowers, 
stretched for two or three miles along the foot of the hills, 
bordered on the opposite side by the river, whose banks were 
fringed with cottonwood trees, the bright foliage of which re- 
freshed and dehghted the eye, after being wearied by the con- 
templation of monotonous wastes of brown forest. 

The meadow was flnely diversified by groves and clumps of 
trees, so happily dispersed, that they seemed as if set out by 
the hand of art. As we cast our eyes over this fresh and de- 
lightful valley, we beheld a troop of wild horses, quietly graz 
ing on a green lawn, about a mile distant to our right, while to 
our left, at nearly the same distance, were several buffaloes ; 
some feeding, others reposing and ruminating among the high 
rich herbage, under the shade of a clump of cottonwood trees. 
The whole had the appearance of a broad beautiful tract of 
pasture land, on the highly oiTiameuted estate of some gentle' 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 93 

man farmerj, with his cattle grazing about the lawns and mea 
dows. 

A council of war was now held, and it was determined to 
profit by the present favorable opportunity, and try our hand 
at the grand hunting manoeuvre, which is called ringing the 
wild horse. This requires a large party of horsemen, well 
mounted. They extend themselves in each direction, singly, 
at certain distances apart, and gradually form a ring of two or 
three miles in circumference, so as to surround the game. This 
has to be done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the 
most readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and.can scent a 
hunter at a great distance, if to windward. 

The ring being formed, two or three ride toward the horses, 
who start off in an opposite direction. Whenever they ap- 
proach the bounds of the ring, however, a huntsman presents 
himself and turns them from their course. In this way, they 
are checked and driven back at every point ; and kept gallop- 
ing round and round this ma.gic circle, until, being completely 
tired down, it is easy for the hunters to ride up beside them, 
and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses of 
most speed, courage, and bottom, however, are apt to break 
through and escape, so that, in general, it is the second-rate 
horses that are taken. 

Preparations were now made for a hunt of the kind. The 
pack-horses were taken into the woods and firmly tied to trees, 
lest, in a rush of the wild horses, they should break away with 
them. Twenty-five men were then sent under the command 
of a lieutenant, to steal along the edge of the vaUey within the 
strip of wood that skirted the hiUs. They were to station 
themselves about fifty yards apart, within the edge of the 
woods, and not advance or show themselves until the horses 
dashed in that direction. Twenty-five men were sent across 
the valley, to steal in like manner along the river bank that 
bordered the opposite side, and to station themselves among 
the trees. A third party, of about the same number, was to 
form a line, stretching across the lower part of the vaUey, so 
as to connect the two wings. Beatte and our other half-breed, 
Antoine, together with the ever-ofiicious Tonish, were to make 
a circuit through the woods so as to get to the upper part of 
the valley, in the rear of the horses, and to drive them forward 
into the kind of sack that we had formed, while the two wings 
should join behind them and make a complete circle. 

The flanking parties were quietly extending themselves, out 



94 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



of sight, on each side of the valley, and the residue were 
stretching themselves, like the links of a chain, across it, when 
the wild horses gave signs that they scented an enemy ; snuf- 
fing the air, snorting, and looking about. At length they 
pranced off slowly toward the river, and disappeared behind a 
green hank. Here, had the regulations of the chase been ob» 
served, they would have been quietly checked and turned back 
by the advance of a hunter from among the trees ; unluckily, 
however, we had our wild-fire Jack-o’-lantern little Frenchman 
to deal with. Instead of keeping quietly up the right side of 
the valley, to get above the horses, the moment he saw them 
move tovfard the river, he broke out of the covert of woods, 
and dashed furiously across the plain in pursuit of them, being 
mounted on one of the led horses belonging to the Count. This 
put an end to all system. The half-breeds and half a score of 
rangers joined in the chase. Away they all went over the 
green bank ; in a moment or two the wild horses reappeared, 
and came thundering down the valley, with Frenchman, half- 
breeds, and rangers galloping and yeUing like devils behind 
them. It was in vain that the line drawn across the valley at- 
tempted to check and turn back the fugitives. They were too 
hotly pressed by their pursuers; in their panic they dashed 
through the line, and clattered down the plain. The whole 
troop joined in the headlong chase, some of the rangers with- 
out hats or caps, their hair flying about their ears, others with 
handkerchiefs tied round their heads. The buffaloes, who had 
been calmly ruminating among the herbage, heaved up their 
huge forms, gazed for a moment with astonishment at the 
tempest that came scouring down the meadow, then turned 
and took to heavy-rolling flight. They were soon overtaken ; 
the promiscuous throng were pressed together by the contract- 
ing sides of the valley, and away they went, pell-mell, hurry- 
scurry, wild buffalo, wild horse, wild huntsman, with clang 
and clatter, and whoop and halloo, that made the forests ring. 

At length the buffaloes turned into a green brake on the 
river bank, while the horses dashed up a narrow defile of the 
hills, with their pursuers close at their heels. Beatte passed 
several of them, having fixed his eye upon a fine Pawnee horse, 
that had his ears slit, and saddle-marks upon his back. Ho 
pressed him gallantly, but lost him in the woods. Among the 
wild horses was a fine black mare, far gone with foal. In 
scrambling up the defile, she tripped and fell. A young ranger 
sprang from his horse, and seized her by the mane and muzzle. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



95 



Another ranger dismounted, and came to his assistance. The 
mare struggled fiercely, kicking and biting, and. striking with 
her fore feet, but a noose was slipped over her head, and her 
struggles were in vain. It was some time, however, before 
she gave over rearing and plunging, and lashing out with her 
feet on every side. The two rangers then led her along the 
valley by two long lariats, which enabled them to keep at a 
sufficient distance on each side to be out of the reach of her 
hoofs, and whenever she struck out in one direction, she was 
jerked in the other. In this way her spirit was gradually sub- 
dued. 

As to little Scaramouch Tonish, who had marred the whole 
scene by his precipitancy, heffiad been more successful than he 
deserved, having managed to catch a beautiful cream-colored 
colt, about seven months old, which had not strength to keep 
up with its companions. The mercurial little Frenchman was 
beside himself with exultation. It was amusing to see him 
with his prize. The colt would rear and kick, and struggle to 
get free, when Tonish would take him about the neck, wrestle 
with him, jump on his back, and cut as many antics as a mon- 
key with a kitten. Nothing surprised me more, however, than 
to witness how soon these poor animals, thus taken from the 
unbounded freedom of the prairie, yielded to the dominion of 
man. In the course of two or three days the mare and colt 
went with the led horses, and became quite docile. 



CHAPTEE XXVI. 

FORDING OF THE NORTH FORK.— DREARY SCENERY OF THE CROSS 
TIMBER.— SCAMPER OP HORSES IN THE NIGHT.— OSAGE WAR 
PARTY.— EFFECTS OF A PEACE HARANGUE. —BUFFALO. — WILD 
HORSE. 

Eesuming our march, we forded the North Fork, a rapid 
stream, and of a purity seldom to be found in the rivers of the 
prairies. It evidently had its sources in high land, weU sup- 
plied with springs. After crossing the river, we again as- 
cended among hills, from one of which we had an extensive 
view over tliis belt of cross timber, and a cheerless prospect it 
was ; hill beyond hill, forest beyond forest, all of one sad rus- 
set hue— excepting that here and there a line of green cotton- 



96 



A TOm OK THE PRAIRIES. 



wood trees, sycamores, and willows, marked the course of 
some streamlet through a valley. A procession of buffaloes, 
moving slowly up the profile of one of those distant hills, 
formed a characteristic object in the savage scene. To the 
left, the eye stretched beyond this rugged wilderness of hills, 
and ravines, and ragged forests, to a prairie about ten miles 
off, extending in a clear blue line along the horizon. It was 
like looking from among rocks and breakers upon a distant 
tract of tranquil ocean. Unluckily, our route did not lie in 
that direction ; we still had to traverse many a weary mile of 
the cross timber.” 

We encamped toward evening in a valley, beside a scanty 
pool, under a scattered grove of elms, the upper branches of 
which were fringed with tufts of the mystic mistletoe. In the 
course of the night, the wild colt whinnied repeatedly; and 
about two hours before day, there was a sudden stampedo, or 
rush of horses, along the purlieus of the camp, with a snorting 
and neighing, and clattering of hoofs, that startled most of the 
rangers from their sleep, who listened in silence, until the 
sound died away like the rushing of a blast. As usual, the 
noise was at first attributed to some party of marauding In- 
dians, but as the day dawned, a couple of wild horses were 
seen in a neighboring meadow, which scoured off on being 
approached. It was now supposed that a gang of them had 
dashed through our camp in the night. A general mustering 
of our horses took place, many were found scattered to a con- 
siderable distance, and several were not to be found. The 
prints of their hoofs, however, appeared deeply dinted in the 
soil, leading off at full speed into the waste, and their owners, 
putting themselves on the trail, set off in weary search of 
them. 

We had a ruddy daybreak, but the morning gathered up 
gray and lowering, with indications of an autumnal storm. 
We resumed our march silently and seriously, through a 
rough and cheerless country, from the highest points of which 
we could descry large prairies, stretching indefinitely west- 
ward. After travelling for two or three hours, as we were tra- 
versing a withered prairie, resembhng a great brown heath, 
we beheld seven Osage warriors approaching at a distance. 
The sight of any human being in this lonely wilderness was 
interesting; it was like speaking a ship at sea. One of the In- 
dians took the lead of his companions, and advanced toward 
us with head erect, chest thrown forward, and a free and noble 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



07 



mien. He was a fine-looking fellow, dressed in scarlet frocl: 
and fringed leggings of deer skin. His head was decorated 
v/ith a white tuft, and he stepped forward with something of a 
martial air, swaying his bow and arrows in one hand. 

We held some conversation with him through our inter^ 
preter, Beatte, and found that he and his companions had been 
with the main part of their tribe hunting the buffalo, and 
had met with great success ; and he informed us, that in the 
course of another day’s march, we would reach the prairies on 
the banks of the Grand Canadian, and find plenty of game. 
He added, that as their hunt was over, and the hunters on 
their return homeward, he and his comrades had set out on a 
war party, to waylay and hover about some Pawnee camp, in 
hopes of carrying off scalps or horses. 

By this time his companions, who at first stood aloof, joined 
him. Three of them had indifferent fowling-pieces; the rest 
were armed with bows and arrows. I could not but admire 
the finely shaped heads and busts of these savages, and their 
graceful attitudes and expressive gestures, as they stood con- 
versing with our interpreter, and surrounded by a cavalcade 
of rangers. We endeavored to get one of them to join us, as 
we were desirous of seeing him hunt the buffalo with his bow 
and arrow. He seemed at first inclined to do so, but was dis- 
suaded by his companions. 

The worthy Commissioner now remembered his mission as 
pacificator, and made a speech, exhorting them to abstain 
from all offensive acts against the Pawnees ; informing them 
of the plan of their father at Washington, to put an end to all 
war among his red children ; and assming them that he was 
sent to the frontier to establish a universal peace. He told 
them, therefore, to return quietly to their homes, with the cer- 
tainty that the Pawnees would no longer molest them, but 
would soon regard them as brothers. 

The Indians listened to the speech with their customary 
silence and decorum; after which, exchanging a few words 
among themselves, they bade us farewell, and pursued their 
way across the prairie. 

Fancying that I saw a lurking smile in the countenance of 
our interpreter, Beatte, I privately inquired wdiat the Indians 
had said to each other after hearing the speech. The leader, 
he said, had observed to his compamions, that, as their great 
father intended so soon to put an end to all warfare, it be- 
hooved them, to make the most of the little time that was left 



98 



A TOUB ON THE PllAIBIES. 



them. So they had departed, with redoubled zeal, to pursue 
their project of horse-stealing ! 

We had not long parted from the Indians before we dis- 
covered three buffaloes among the thickets of a marshy valley 
to our left. I set off with the Captain and several rangers, in 
pursuit of them. Stealing through a straggling grove, the 
Captain, who took the lead, got within rifle-shot, and wounded 
one of them in the flank. They all three made of in headlong 
panic, through thickets and brushwood, and swamp and mire, 
bearing down every obstacle by their immense weight. The 
Captain and rangers soon gave up a chase which threatened 
to knock up their horses; I had got upon the traces of the 
wounded bull, however, and was in hopes of getting near 
enough to use my pistols, the only weapons with which I was 
provided ; but before I could effect it, he reached the foot of a 
rocky hill, covered with post-oak and brambles, and plunged 
forward, dashing and crashing along, with neck or nothing 
fury, where it would have been madness to have followed 
him. 

The chase had led me so far on one side, that it was some 
time before I regained the trail of our troop. As I was slowly 
ascending a hill, a fine black naare came prancing round the 
summit, and was close to me before she was aware. At sight 
of me she started back, then turning, sv^ept at full speed down 
into the valley, and up the opposite hiU, with flowing mane 
and tail, and action free as air. I gazed after her as long as 
she was in sight, and breathed a wish that so glorious an 
animal might never come under the degrading thraldom of 
whip and curb, but remain a free rover of the prairies. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

FOUL WEATHER ENCAMPMENT. — ANECDOTES OF BEAR HUNTING.— 
INDIAN NOTIONS ABOUT OMENS. — SCRUPLES RESPECTING THE 
DEAD. 

On overtaking the troop, I found it encamping in a rich 
bottom of woodland, traversed by a small stream, running 
between deep crumbling banks. A sharp cracking off of rifles 
was kept up for some time in various directions, upon a nu- 
merous flock of turkeys, scampering among the thickets, or 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



99 



perched upon the trees. We had not been long at a halt, 
when a drizzling rain ushered in the autumnal storm that 
had been brewing. Preparations were immediately made to 
weather it ; our tent was pitched, and our saddles, saddlebags, 
packages of coffee, sugar, salt, and every thing else that could 
be damaged by the rain, were gathered under its shelter. Our 
men, Beatte, Tonish, and Antoine, drove stakes with forked 
ends into the ground, laid poles across them for rafters, and 
thus made a shed or pent-house, covered with bark and skins, 
sloping toward the wind, and open toward tJie fire. The ran- 
gers formed similar shelters of bark and skins, or of blankets 
stretched on poles, supported by forked stakes, with great fires 
in front. 

These precautions were well timed. The rain set in sullenly 
and steadily, and kept on, with slight intermissions, for two 
days. The brook which flowed peacefully on our arrival, 
swelled into a turbid and boiling torrent, and the forest be- 
came little better than a mere swamp. The men gathered 
under their shelters of skins and blankets, or sat cowering 
round their fires ; while columns of smoke curling up among 
the trees, and diffusing themselves in the air, spread a blue 
haze through the woodland. Our poor, way-worn horses, 
reduced by weary travel and scanty pasturage, lost all re- 
maining spirit, and stood, with drooping heads, flagging ears, 
and half -closed eyes, dozing and steaming in the rain, while 
the yellow autumnal leaves, at every shaking of the breeze, 
came wavering down around them. 

Notwithstanding the bad v/eather, however, our hunters 
were not idle, but during the intervals of the rain, sallied forth 
on horseback to prowl through the woodland. Every now 
and then the sharp report of a distant rifle boded the death of 
a deer. Venison in abundance was brought in. Some busied 
themselves under the sheds, flaying and cutting up the car- 
casses, or round the fires with spits and camp kettles, and 
a rude kind of feasting, or rather gormandizing, prevailed 
throughout the camp. The axe was continually at work, 
and wearied the forest with its echoes. Crash ! some mighty 
tree would come down ; in a few minutes its limbs would be 
blazing and crackling on the huge camp fires, with some 
luckless deer roasting before it, that had once sported beneath 
its shade. 

The change of weather had taken sharp hold of our little 
Frenehman, His meagre frame, composed of bones and whip- 



100 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



cord, was racked with rheumatic pains and twinges. He had 
the toothache — ^the earache -his face was tied up— he had 
shooting pains in every limb ; yet all seemed but to increase 
his restless activity, and he was in an incessant fidget about 
the fire, roasting, and stewing, and groaning, and scolding, 
and swearing. 

Our man Beatte returned grim and mortified, from hunting. 
He had come upon a bear of formidable dimensions, and 
wounded him with a rifie-shot. The bear took to the brook, 
which was swollen and rapid. Beatte dashed in after him and 
assailed him in the rear with his hunting-knife. At every 
blow the bear turned furiously upon him, with a terrific dis- 
play of white teeth. Beatte, having a foothold in the brook, 
was enabled to push him off with his rifle, and, when he 
turned to swim, would flounder after, and attempt to ham- 
string him. The bear, however, succeeded in scrambling off 
among the thickets, and Beatte had to give up the chase. 

This adventure, if it produced no game, brought up at least 
several anecdotes, round the evening fire, relative to bear 
hunting, in which the grizzly bear figured conspicuously. 
This powerful and ferocious animal is a favorite theme of 
hunter’s story, both among red and white men; and his 
enormous claws are worn round the neck of an Indian brave 
as a trophy more honorable than a human scalp. He is now 
scarcely seen below the upper prairies and the skirts of the 
Eocky Mountains. Other bears are formidable when wounded 
and provoked, but seldom make battle when allowed to escape. 
The grizzly bear alone, of all the animals of our Western 
wilds, is prone to unprovoked hostility. His prodigious size 
and strength make him a formidable opponent ; and his great 
tenacity of life often baffles the skill of the hunter, notwith- 
standing repeated shots of the rifle, and wounds of the hunting- 
knife. 

One of the anecdotes related on this occasion, gave a picture 
of the accidents and hard shifts to which our frontier rovers 
are inured. A hunter, while in pursuit of a deer, feU into one 
of those deep funnel-shaped pits, formed on the prairies by the 
settling of the waters after heavy rains, and known by the 
name of sink-holes. To his great horror, he came in contact, 
at the bottom, with a huge grizzly bear. The monster gi'ap- 
pled him ; a deadly contest ensued, in which the poor hunter 
was severely torn and bitten, and had a leg and an arm 
broken, but succeeded in killing his rugged foe. For several 



A TOUR ON THE RR AIRIES. 



101 



days he remained at the bottom of the pit, too much crippled 
to move, and subsisting on the raw flesh of the bear, during 
which time he kept his wounds open, that they might heal 
gradually and effectually. He was at length enabled to 
scramble to the top of the pit, and so out upon the open 
prairie. With great difficulty he crawled to a ravine, formed 
by a stream, then nearly dry. Here he took a delicious 
draught of water, which infused new life into him; then 
dragging himself along from pool to pool, he supported him- 
self by small fish and frogs. 

One day he saw a wolf hunt down and kill a deer in the 
neighboring prairie. Ho immediately crawled forth from the 
ravine, drove off the wolf, and, lying dov/n beside the carcass 
of the deer, remained there until he made several hearty 
meals, by vfliich his strength was much recruited. 

Eeturning to the ravine, he pursued the course of the brook, 
until it grew to be a considerable stream. Down this he 
floated, until he came to v/here it emptied into the Mississippi. 
Just at the mouth of the stream, he found a forked tree, which 
he launched with some difficulty, and, getting astride of it, 
committed himself to the current of the mighty river. In this 
way he floated along, until he arrived opposite the fort at 
Council Bluffs. Fortunately he arrived there in the daytime, 
otherwise he might have floated, unnoticed, past this solitary 
post, and perished in the idle waste of waters. Being descried 
from the fort, a canoe was sent to his relief, and he was 
brought to shore more dead than alive, where he soon re- 
covered from his wounds, but remained maimed for life. 

Our man Beatte had come out of his contest with the bear 
very much worsted and discomfited. His drenching in the 
brook, together with the recent change of weather, had 
brought on rheumatic pains in his limbs, to which he is 
subject. Though ordinarily a. fellow of undaunted spirit, 
and above all hardship, yet he now sat down by the fire, 
gloomy and dejected, and for once gave way to repining. 
Though in the prime of life, and of a robust frame, and appa- 
rently iron, constitution, yet, by his own account, he was little 
better than a mere wreck. He was, in fact, a living monu- 
ment of the hardships of wild frontier life. Baring his left 
arm, he showed it warped and contracted by a former attack 
of rheumatism; a malady Vvith which the Indians are often 
afflicted ; for their exposure to the vicissitudes of the elements 
does not produce that perfect hardihood and insensibility to 



]02 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



the changes of the seasons that many are apt to imagine. He 
bore the scars of various maims and bruises ; some received in 
hunting, some in Indian warfare. His right arm had been 
broken by a fall from his horse ; at another time his steed had 
fallen with him, and crushed his left leg. 

“I am all broke to pieces and good for nothing,” said he; I 
no care now what happen to mo any more.” “However,” 
added he, after a moment’s pause, “for all that, it would take 
a pretty strong man to put me down, anyhow.” 

I drew from him various particulars concerning himself, 
which served to raise him in my estimation. His residence 
was on the Neosho, in an Osage hamlet or neighborhood, 
under the superintendence of a worthy missionary from the 
banks of the Hudson, by the name of Eequa, who was endea- 
voring to instruct the savages in the art of agriculture, and to 
make husbandmen and herdsmen of them. I had visited this 
agricultural mission of Eequa in the course of my recent tour 
along the frontier, and had considered it more likely to pro- 
duce solid advantages to the poor Indians than any of the 
mere praying and preaching missions along the border. 

In this neighborhood, Pierre Beatte had his little farm, his 
Indian wife, and his half-breed children ; and aided Mr. Eequa 
in his endeavors to civilize the habits, and meliorate the con- 
dition of the Osage tribe. Beatte had been brought up a 
Catholic, and was inflexible in his religious faith ; he could not 
pray with Mr. Eequa, he said, but he could work with him, 
and he evinced a zeal for the good of his savage relations and 
neighbors. Indeed, though his father had been French, and 
he hunself had been brought up in communion with the 
whites, he evidently was more of an Indian in his tastes, and 
his heart yearned toward his mother’s nation. When he 
talked to me of the wrongs and insults that the poor Indians 
suffered in their intercourse with the rough settlers on the 
frontiers ; when he described the precarious and degraded 
state of the Osage tribe, diminished in numbers, broken in 
spirit, and almost Hving on sufferance in the land where they 
once figured so heroically, I could see his veins swell, and his 
nostrils distend with indignation ; but he would check the feel- 
ing with a strong exertion of Indian self-command, and, in a 
manner, drive it back into his bosom. 

He did not hesitate to relate an instance wherein he had 
joined his kindred Osages, in pursuing and avenging them- 
seP^es on a party of white men who had committed a flagrant 



A TOUR ON TllK RR AIRIES. 1()3 

outrage upon them ; and I found, in the encounter that took 
place, Beatte had shown himself the complete Indian. 

He had more than once accompanied his Osage relations in 
their wars with the Pawnees, and related a skirmish which 
too]^ place on the borders of these very hunting grounds, in 
which several Pawnees were killed. We should pass near the 
place, he said, in the course of our tour, and the unburied 
bones and skulls of the slain were still to he seen there. The 
surgeon of the troop, who was present at our conversation, 
pricked up his ears at this intelligince. He was something of 
a phrenologist, and offered Beatte a handsome reward if he 
would procure him one of the skulls. 

Beatte regarded him for a moment with a look of stern sur- 
prise. 

“No!” said he at length, “ dat too bad! I have heart strong 
enough — I no care kill, but let the dead alone r 

He added, that once in travelling with a party of white men, 
he had slept in the same tent with a doctor, and found that he 
had a Pawnee skull among his baggage : he at once renounced 
the doctor’s tent, and his fellowship. “He try to coax me,” 
said Beatte, ‘‘but I say no, we must part— I no keep such 
company.” 

In the temporary depression of his spirits, Beatte gave way 
to those superstitious forebodings to which Indians are prone. 
He had sat for some time, with his cheek upon his hand, 
gazing into the fire. I found his thoughts were wandering 
back to his humble home, on the banks of the Neosho; he was 
sure, he said, that he should find some one of his family ill, or 
dead, on his return: his left eye had twitched and twinl^fed 
for two days past; an omen which abvays boded some misfor- 
tune of the kind. 

Such are the trivial circumstances which, when magnified 
into omens, will shake the souls of these men of iron. The 
least sign of mystic and sinister portent is sufficient to turn a 
hunter or a warrior from his course, or to fill his mind with 
apprehensions of impending evil. It is this superstitious pro- 
pensity, common to the solitary and savage rovers of the 
wilderness, that gives such powerful influence to the prophet 
and the dreamer. 

The Osages, with whom Beatte had passed much of his life, 
retain these superstitious fancies and rites in much of their 
original force. They aU believe in the existence of the soul 
after its separation from the body, and that it carries with it 



• 04 



A TOUR ON THE m A HUES. 



ill its mortal tastes and habitudes. At an Osage village in the 
neighborhood ot Beatte, one of the chief warriors lost an only 
child, a beautiful girl, of a very tender age. All her playthings 
were buried with her. Her favorite little horse, also, was 
killed, and laid in the grave beside her, that she might have it 
to ride in the land of spirits. 

I will here add a little story, which I picked up in the course 
of my tour through Beatte’s country, and which illustrates the 
superstitions of his Osage kindred. A large party of Osages 
had been encamped for some time on the borders of a fine 
stream, called the Nickanansa. Among them was a young 
hunter, one of the bravest and most graceful of the tribe, who 
was to be married to an Osage girl, who, for her beauty, was 
called the Flower of the Prairies. The young hunter left her 
for a time among her relatives in the encampment, and went 
to St. Louis, to dispose of the products of his hunting, and 
purchase ornaments for his bride. After an absence of some 
weeks, he returned to the banks of the Nickanansa, but the 
camp was no longer there; and the bare frames of the lodges 
and the brands of extinguished fires alone marked the place. 
At a distance he beheld a female seated, as if weeping, by the 
side of the stream. It was his affianced bride. He ran to em- 
brace her, but she turned mournfully away. He dreaded lest 
some evil had befaUen the camp. 

Where are our people?” cried he. 

“ They are gone to the banks of the Wagrushka.” 

“ And what art thou doing here alone?” 

“ Waiting for thee.” 

Then let us hasten to join our people on the banks of the 
Wagimshka.” 

He gave her his pack to carry, and walked ahead, according 
to the Indian custom. 

They came to where the smoke of the distant camp was seen 
rising from the woody margin of the stream. The girl seated 
herself at the foot of a tree. ‘ ‘ It is not proper for us to return 
together,” said she; “ I will wait here.” 

The young hunter proceeded to the camp alone, and was re« 
ceived by his relations with gloomy countenances. 

“What evil has happened,” said he, “that ye are all so 
sad?” 

No one replied. 

He turned to his favorite sister, and bade her go forth, seek 
his bride, and conduct her to the camp. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 105 

Alas!” cried she, ‘‘how shall I seek her? She died a few 
days since.” 

The relations of the young girl now surrounded him, weep- 
ing and wailing; but he refused to believe the dismal tidings. 
“But a few moments since,” cried he, “I left her alone and in 
health; come with me, and I will conduct you to her.” 

He led the way to the tree where she had seated herself, but 
: ho was no longer there, and his pack lay on the ground. The 
I'atal truth struck him to the heart ; he fell to the ground dead. 

I give this simple story almost in the words in wliich it was 
related to me, as I lay by the fire in an evening encampment 
on the banks of the haunted stream where it is said to have 
happened. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A SECRET EXPEDITION. — DEER BLEATING. — MAGIC BALLS. 

On the following morning we were rejoined by the rangers 
who had remained at the last encampment, to seek for the 
stray horses. They had tracked them for a considerable dis- 
tance through bush and brake, and across streams, until they 
found them cropping the herbage on the edge of a prairie. 
Their heads were in the direction of the fort, and they were 
evidently grazing their way homeward, heedless of the un- 
bounded freedom of the prairie so suddenly laid open to them. 

About noon the weather held up, and I observed a mysteri- 
ous consultation going on between our half-breeds and Tonish ; 
it ended in a request that we would dispense with the services 
of the latter for a few hours, and permit him to join his com- 
rades in a grand foray. We objected that Tonish was too 
much disabled by aches and pains for such an undertaking; 
but he was wild with eagerness for the mysterious enterprise, 
and, when permission was given him, seemed to forget all his 
ailments in an instant. 

In a short time the trio were equipped and on horseback ; 
with rifles on their shoulders and handkerchiefs twisted round 
their heads, evidently bound for a grand scamper. As they 
passed by the different lodges of the camp, the vainglorious 
little Frenchman could not help boasting to the right and left 
of the great things he was about to acliieve ; though the taci- 
turn Beatte, who rode in advance, would every now and then 



106 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 



check his horse, and look back at him with an air of stern re- 
buke. It was hard, however, to make the loquacious Tonish 
play ‘^Indian.” 

Several of the hunters, likewise, sallied forth, and the prime 
old woodman, Ryan, came back early in the afternoon, with 
ample spoil, having killed a buck and two fat does. I drew 
near to a group of rangers that had gathered round him as he 
stood by the spoil, and found they were discussing the merits 
of a stratagem sometimes used in deer huntmg. This consists 
in imitating, with a small instrument called a bleat, the cry of 
the fawn, so as to lure the doe within reach of the rifle. There 
are bleats of various kinds, suited to calm or windy weather, 
and to the age of the fawn. The poor animal, deluded by 
them, in its anxiety about its young, will sometimes advance 
close up to the hunter. “ I once bleated a doe,” said a young 
hunter, “until it came within twenty yards of me, and pre- 
sented a sure mark. I levelled my rifle three times, but had 
not the heart to shoot, for the poor doe looked so wistfully, 
that it in a manner made my heart yearn. I thought of my 
own mother, and how anxious she used to be about me when I 
was a. child ; so to put an end to the matter, I gave a halloo, 
and started the doe out of rifle-shot in a moment.” 

“And you did right,” cried honest old Ryan. “ For my part, 

I never could bring myself to bleating deer. I’ve been with 
hunters who had bleats, and have made them throw them 
away. It is a rascally trick to ta-ke advantage of a mother’s 
love for her young.” 

Toward evening our three worthies returned from their 
mysterious foray. The tongue of Tonish gave notice of their 
approach long before they came in sight ; for he was vocifer- 
ating at the top of his lungs, and rousing the attention of the 
whole camp. The lagging gait and reeking flanks of their 
horses, gave evidence of hard riding; and, on nearer approach, 
we found them hung round with meat like a butcher’s sham- ’ 
bles. In fact, they had been scouring an immense prairie that 
extended beyond the forest, and which was covered with herds 
of buffalo. Of this prairie, and the animals upon it, Beatte 
had received intelligence a few days before, in his conversation 
with the Osages, but had kept the information a secret from 
the rangers, that he and his comrades might have the first dash 
at the game. They had contented themselves with killing four; 
though, if Tonish might be believed, they might have slain 
them by scores. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



107 



These tidings, and the buffalo meat brought home in evi- 
dence, spread exultation through the camp, and every one 
looked forward with joy to a biiffalo hunt on the prairies. 
Tonish was again the oracle of the camp, and held forth by the 
hour to a knot of listeners;^ crouched round the fire, with their 
shoulders up to their ears. He was now more boastful than 
ever of his skill as a marksman. All his want of success in the 
early part of our march he attributed to being ‘‘out of luck,” 
if not “spell-bound;” and finding himself listened to with ap- 
parent credulity, gave an instance of the kind, which he de- 
clared had happened to himself, but which was evidently a 
tale picked up among his relations, the Osages. 

According to this account, when about fourteen years of age, 
as he was one day hunting, he saw a white deer come out from 
a ravine. Crawling hear to get a shot, he beheld another and 
another come forth, until there Avere seven, all as Avhite as 
snow. Having crept sufficiently near, he singled one out and 
fired, but without effect; the deer remained unfrightened. He 
loaded and fired again and missed. Thus he continued firing 
and missing until all his ammunition was expended, and the 
deer remained without a wound. He returned home despair- 
ing of his skill as a marksman, but was consoled by an old 
Osage hunter. These Avhite deer, said he, have a charmed life, 
and can only be killed by bullets of a particular kind. 

The old Indian cast several balls for Tonish, but would not 
suffer him to be present on the occasion, nor inform him of the 
ingredients and mystic ceremonials. 

Provided with these balls, Tonish again set out in quest of 
the Avhite deer, and succeeded in finding them. He tried at 
first with ordinary balls, but missed as before. A magic ball, 
however, immediately brought a fine buck to the ground. 
Whereupon the rest of the herd immediately disappeared and 
were never seen again. 

October 29th. — The morning opened gloomy and loAvering; 
but toward eight o’clock the sun struggled forth and lighted 
up the forest, and the notes of the bugle gave signal to pre- 
pare for marching. Now began a scene of bustle, and clamor, 
and gayety. Some were scampering and brawling after 
their horses, some were riding in bare-backed, and driAung 
in the horses of their comrades. Some were stripping the 
poles of the wet blankets that had served for shelters ; others 
packing up with all possible dispatch, and loading the bag- 
gage horses as they arrived; while others Avere cracking off 



108 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



their damp rifles and charging them afresh, to be ready for 
the sport. 

About ten o’clock, we began our march. I loitered in the 
rear of the troop as it forded the turbid brook, and defiled 
through the labyrinths of the forest. I always felt disposed to 
linger imtil the last straggler disappeared among the trees and 
the distant note of the bugle died upon the ear, that I might 
behold the wilderness relapsing into silence and solitude. In 
the Resent instance, the deserted scene of our late bustling en- 
campment had a forlorn and desolate appearance. The sur- 
rounding forest had been in many places trampled into a quag- 
mire. Trees felled and partly hewn in pieces, and scattered in 
huge fragments ; tent-poles stripped of their covering; smoul- 
dering fires, with great morsels of roasted venison and buffalo 
moat, standing in wooden spits before them, hacked and 
slashed by the knives of hungry hunters ; while around were 
strewed the hides, the horns, the antlers, and bones of buffa- 
loes and deer, with uncooked joints, and unplucked turkeys, 
loft behind with that reckless improvidence and wastefulness 
which young hunters are apt to indulge when in a neighbor- 
hood where game abounds. In the meantime a score or two 
of turkey -buzzards, or vultures, were already on the wing, 
wheeling their magnificent flight high in the air, and preparing 
for a descent upon the camp as soon as it should be abandoned. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE GRAND PRAIRIE. — A BUFFALO HUNT. 

After proceeding about two hours in a southerly direction, 
we emerged toward mid-day from the dreary belt of the Cross 
Timber, and to our infinite delight beheld “the great Prairie” 
stretching to the right and left before us. We could distinctly 
trace the meandering course of the main Canadian, and various 
smaller streams, by the strips of green forest that bordered 
them. The landscape was vast and beautiful. There is always 
an expansion of feeling in looking upon these boundless and 
fertile wastes ; but I was doubly conscious of it after emerging 
from our “close dungeon of innumerous boughs.” 

From a rising ground Beatte pointed out the place where he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



109 



and his comrades had killed the bufTaloes ; and we beheld sev- 
eral black objects moving in the distance, which he said were 
part of the herd. The Captain determined to sliat'e liis course 
to a woody bottom about a mile distant, and to encamp there 
for a day or two, by way of having a regular buffalo hunt, and 
getting a supply of provisions. As the troop defiled along the 
i5lope of the hill toward the camping ground, Eeatte proposed 
to my messmates and myself, that we should put ourselves 
under his guidance, promising to take us where we should 
have plenty of sport. Leaving the line of march, there- 
fore, we diverged toward the prairie ; traversing a small val- 
ley, and ascending a gentle swell of land. As we reached 
the summit, we beheld a gang of wild horses about a mile off. 
Beatte was immediately on the alert, and no longer thought of 
buffalo hunting. He was mounted on his powerful half-wild 
horse, with a lariat coiled at the saddle-bow, and set off in pur- 
suit ; while we remained on a rising ground watching his ma- 
noeuvres with great solicitude. Taking advantage of a strip of 
woodland, he stole quietly along, so as to get close to them be- 
fore he was perceived. The moment they caught sight of him 
a grand scamper took place. We watched him skirting along 
the horizon like a privateer in full chase of a merchantman ; 
at length he passed over the brow of a ridge, and down into a 
shallow valley ; in a few moments he was on the opposite hill, 
and close upon one of the horses. He was soon head and head, 
and appeared to be trying to noose his prey ; but they both dis- 
appeared again below the hill, and we saw no more of them. 
It turned out afterward that he had noosed a powerful horse, 
but could not hold him, and had lost his lariat in the attempt. 

While we were waiting for his return, we perceived two 
buffalo bulls descending a slope, toward a stream, v/hich 
wound through a ravine fringed with trees. The young Count 
and myself endeavored to get near them under covert of the 
trees. They discovered us while we were yet three or four 
hundred yards off, and turning about, retreated up the rising 
ground. We urged our horses across the ravine, and gave 
chase. The immense weight of head and shoulders causes the 
buffalo to labor heavily up hill ; but it accelerates his descent. 
We had the advantage, therefore, and gained rapidly upon the 
fugitives, though it was difficult to get our horses to approach 
them, their very scent inspiring them with terror. The Count, 
who had a double-barrelled gun loaded with ball, fired, but it 
missed. The bulls now altered their coaise, and galloped down 



110 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



h^l with headlong rapidity. As they ran in different direo 
tions, we each singled out one and separated. I was provided 
with a brace of veteran brass-barrelled pistols, which I had 
borrowed at Fort Gibson, and which had evidently seen some 
service. Pistols are very effective in buffalo hunting, as the 
hunter can ride up close to the animal, and fire at it while at 
full speed ; whereas the long heavy rifles used on the frontier, 
cannot be easily managed, nor discharged with accurate aim 
from horseback. My object, therefore, was to get within 
pistol shot of the buffalo. , This was no very easy matter. I 
was well mounted on a horse of excellent speed and bottom, 
that seemed eager for the chase, and soon overtook the game ; 
but the moment he came nearly parallel, he would keep sheer- 
ing off, with ears forked and pricked forward, and every 
symptom of aversion and alarm. It was no wonder. Of all 
animals, a buffalo, when close pressed by the hunter, has an 
aspect the most diabolical. His two short black horns, curve 
out of a huge frontier of shaggy hair; his eyes glow like coals; 
his mouth is open, his tongue parched and drawn up into a 
half crescent ; his tail is erect, and tufted and whisking about 
in the air, he is a perfect picture of mingled rage and terror. 

It was with difficulty I urged my horse sufficiently near, 
when, taking aim, to my chagrin, both pistols missed fire. 
Unfortunately the locks of these veteran weapons were so 
much worn, that in the gaUop, the priming had been shaken 
out of the pans. At the snapping of the last pistol I was close 
upon the buffalo, when, in his despair, he turned round with a 
sudden snort and rushed upon me. My horse wheeled about 
as if on a pivot, made a convulsive spring, and, as I had been 
leaning on one side with pistol extended, I came near being 
thrown at the feet of the buffalo. 

Three or four bounds of the horse carried us out of the reach 
of the enemy ; who, having merely turned in desperate self- 
defence, quickly resumed his flight. As soon as I could gather 
in my panic-stricken horse, and prime the pistols afresh, I 
again spurred in pursuit of the buffalo, who had slackened his 
speed to take breath. On my approach he again set off full 
tnt, heaving himself forward with a heavy rolling gallop, dash- 
ing with headlong precipitation through brakes and ravines, 
while several deer and wolves, startled from their coverts by 
his thundering career, ran helter-skelter to right and left across 
the waste. 

A gallop across the prairies in pursuit of game is by no 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



111 



means so smooth a career as those may imagine, who have 
only tlie idea of an open level plain. It is true, the prairies of 
the hunting ground are not so much entangled with flowering 
plants and long herbage as the lower prairies, and are princi- 
pally covered with short buffalo grass ; but they are diversi- 
fled by hill and dale, and where most level, are apt to be cut 
up by deep rifts and ravines, made by torrents after rains; 
and which, yawning from an even surface, are almost like 
pitfalls in the way of the hunter, checking him suddenly, when 
in full career, or subjecting him to the risk of limb and hfe. 
The plains, too, are beset by burrowing holes of small animals, 
in which the horse is apt to sink to the fetlock, and throw both 
himself and his rider. The late rain had covered some parts 
of the prairie, where the ground was hard, with a thin sheet 
of water, through which the horse had to splash his way. In 
other parts there were innumerable shallow hoUows, eight or 
ten feet in diameter, made by the buffaloes, who wallow in 
sand and mud hke swine. These being filled with water, 
shone hke mirrors, so that the horse was continually leaping 
over them or springing on one side. We had reached, too, a 
rough part of the prairie, very much broken and cut up ; the 
buffalo, who was running for life, took no heed to his course, 
plunging down break-neck ravines, where it was necessary to 
skirt the borders in search of a safer descent. At length we 
came to where a winter stream had torn a deep chasm across 
the whole prairie, leaving open jagged rocks, and forming a 
long glen bordered by steep crumbling cliffs of mingled stone 
and clay. Down one of these the buffalo flung himself, half 
tumbling, half leaping, and then scuttled along the bottom; 
while I, seeing all further pursuit useless, pulled up, and 
gazed quietly after him from the border of the cliff, until he 
disappeared amidst the windings of the ravine. 

Nothing now remained but to turn my steed and rejoin my 
companions. Here at first was some little difficulty. The 
ardor of the chase had betrayed me into a long, heedless gallop. 
I now found myself in the midst of a lonely waste, in which 
the prospect was bounded by undulating swells of land, naked 
and uniform, where, from the deficiency of landmarks and 
distinct features, an inexperienced man may become be- 
wildered, and lose his way as readily as in the wastes of the 
ocean. The day, too, was overcast, so that I could not guide 
myself by the sun; my only mode was to retrace the track 
my horse had made in coming, though this I would often 



112 



A TOUlt OJV THE PllAIRIES, 



lose sight of, where the ground was covered with parched 
herbage. 

To one unaccustomed to it, there is something inexpressibly 
lonely in the sohtude of a prairie. The loneliness of a forest 
seems nothing to it. There the view is shut in by trees, and 
the imagination is left free to picture some livelier scene be- 
yond. But here we have an immense extent of landscape 
without a sign of human existence. We have the conscious- 
ness of being far, far beyond the bounds of human habita- 
tation; we feel as if moving in the midst of a desert world. 
As my horse lagged slowly back over the scenes of our late 
scamper, and the delirium of the chase had passed away, I 
was peculiarly sensible to these circumstances. The silence of 
the waste was now and then broken by the cry of a distant 
flock of pelicans, stalking like spectres about a shallow pool ; 
sometimes by the sinister croaking of a raven in the air, while 
occasionally a scoundrel wolf would scour off from before me : 
and, having attained a safe distance, would sit down and howl 
and whine with tones that gave a dreariness to the surround- 
ing solitude. 

After pursuing my way for some time, I descried a horseman 
on the edge of a distant hill, and soon recognized him to be the 
Count. He had been equally unsuccessful with myself; we 
were shortly after rejoined by our worthy comrade, the Vir- 
tuoso, who, with spectacles on nose, had made two or three 
ineffectual shots from horseback. 

We determined not to seek the camp until we had made 
one more effort. Casting our eyes about the surrounding 
waste, we descried a herd of buffalo about two miles dis- 
tant, scattered apart, and quietly grazing near a small strip 
of trees and bushes. It required but little stretch of fancy 
to picture them so many cattle grazing on the edge of a 
common, and that the grove might shelter some lowly farm- 
house. 

We now formed our plan to circumvent the herd, and by 
getting on the other side of them, to hunt them in the direction 
where we knew our camp to be situated : otherwise the pursuit 
might take us to such a distance as to render it impossible to 
And our way back before nightfall. Taking a wide circuit, 
therefore, we moved slowly and cautiously, pausing occa- 
sionally, when we saw any of the herd desist from grazing. 
The wind fortunately set from them, otherwise they might 
liavc scented us and have taken the alarm. In this way we 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



lid 



succeeded in getting round the herd without disturbing it 
It consisted of about forty head, bulls, cows, and calvefi. 
Separating to some distance from each other, we now ap- 
proached slowly in a parallel line, hoping by degrees to stea*> 
near without exciting attention. They began, however, to 
move off quietly, stopping at every step or two to graze, when 
suddenly a bull that, unobserved by us, had been taking his 
siesta under a clump of trees to our left, roused himself from 
his lair, and hastened to join his companions. We were still 
at a considerable distance, but the game had taken the alarm. 
We quickened our pace, they broke into a gallop, and now 
commenced a fuU chase. 

As the ground was level, they shouldered along with great 
speed, following each other in a line ; two or three bulls brings 
ing up the rear, the last of whom, from his enormous size and 
venerable frontlet, and beard of sunburnt hair, looked like the 
patriarch of the herd ; and as if he might long have reigned 
the monarch of the prairie. 

There is a mixture of the awful and the comic in the look of 
these huge animals, as they bear their great bulk forward, 
with an up and down motion of the unwieldy head and 
shoulders ; their tail cocked up like the queue of Pantaloon in 
a pantomime, the end whisking about in a lierce yet whimsical 
style, and their eyes glaring venomously witu an expression 
of fright and fury. 

For some time I kept parallel with the line, without being 
able to force my horse within pistol shot, so much had he been 
alarmed by the assault of the buffalo in the preceding chase. 
At length I succeeded, but was again balked by my pistols 
missing fire. My companions, whose horses were less fleet, 
and more way-worn, could not overtake the herd ; at length 
Mr. L., who was in the rear of the line, and losing ground, 
levelled his double-barreUed gun, and fired a long raking shot. 
It struck a buffalo just above the loins, broke its back-bone, 
and brought it to the ground. He stopped and alighted to 
dispatch his prey, when borrowing his gun, which had yet a 
charge remaining in it, I put my horse to his speed, again over- 
took the herd which was thundering along, pursued by the 
Count. With my present weapon there was no need of urging 
my horse to such close quarters; galloping along parallel, 
therefore, I singled out a buffalo, and by a fortunate shot 
brought it down on the spot. The ball had struck a vital part; 
it could not move from the place where it fdl, but lay there 



114 



A TOUR ON TUB PRAIRIES. 



struggling in mortal agony, while the rest of the herd kept on 
their headlong career across the prairie. 

Dismounting, I now fettered my horse to prevent his stray- 
ing, and advanced to contemplate my victim. I am nothing of 
a sportsman ; I had been prompted to this unwonted exploit by 
the magnitude of the game, and the excitement of an adven- 
turous chase. Now that the excitement was over, I could not 
but look with commiseration upon the poor animal that lay 
struggling and bleeding at my feet. His very size and impor- 
tance, which had before inspired me with eagerness, now 
increased my compunction. It seemed as if I had inflicted 
pain in proportion to the bulk of my victim, and as if it were 
a hundred-fold greater waste of life than there would have 
been in the destruction of an animal of inferior size. 

To add to these after-qualms of conscience, the poor animal 
lingered in his agony. He had evidently received a mortal 
wound, but death might be long in coming. It would not do 
to leave him here to be torn piecemeal, v/hile yet alive, by the 
wolves that had already snuffed his blood, and were skulking 
and howling at a distance, and waiting for my departure ; and 
by the ravens that were flapping about, croaking dismally in 
the air. It became now an act of mercy to give him hin 
quietus, and put him out of his misery. I primed one of the* 
pistols, therefore, and advanced close up to the buffalo. To 
inflict a wound thus in cold blood, I found a totally different 
tiling from firing in the heat of the chase. Taking aim, how- 
ever, just behind the fore-shoulder, my pistol for once proved 
true; the ball must have passed through the heart, for the 
animal gave one convulsive throe and expired. 

While I stood meditating and moralizing over the wreck I 
had so wantonly produced, with my horse grazing near me, I 
was rejoined by my fellow-sportsman, the Virtuoso; who, 
being a man of universal adroitness, and withal, more experi- 
enced and hardened in the gentle art of “ venerie,” soon man- 
aged to carve out the tongue of the buffalo, and delivered it to 
me to bear back to the camp as a trophy. 



A TOUU OiV THE PUAllilES. 



115 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A. -COMRADE LOST.— A SEARCH FOR THE CAMP.— THE COMMISSIONER. 

THE WILD HORSE, AND THE BUFFALO. — A WOLF SERENADE. 

Our solicitude was now awakened for the young Count. 
Yficn his usual eagerness and impetuosity he had persisted in 
urging his jaded horse in pursuit of the herd, unwilling to 
return without having likewise killed a buffalo. In this way 
he had kept on following them, hither and thither, and 
occasionally firing an ineffectual shot, until by degrees horse- 
man and herd became indistinct in the distance, and at length 
swelhng ground and strips of trees and thickets hid them 
entirely from sight. 

By the time my friend, the amateur, joined me, the young 
Count had been long lost to view. We held a consultation on 
the matter. Evening was drawing on. Were we to pursue 
him, it would be dark before we should overtake him, grant- 
ing we did not entirely lose trace of him in the gloom. We 
should then be too much bewildered to find our way back to 
the encampment; even now, our return would be difficult. 
We determined, therefore, to hasten to the camp as speedily 
as possible, and send out our haK-breeds, and some of the 
veteran hunters, skilled in cruising about the prairies, to 
search for our companion. 

We accordingly set forward in what we supposed to be the 
direction of the camp. Our weary horses could hardly be 
urged beyond a walk. The twilight thickened upon us; the 
landscape grew gradually indistinct ; we tried in vain to recog- 
nize various landmarks which we had noted in the morning. 
The features of the prairies are so similar as to baffle the eye 
of any but an Indian, or a practised woodman. At length 
night closed in. We hoped to see the distant glare of camp- 
fires : .we listened to catch the sound of the bells about the 
necks of the grazing horses. Once or twice we thought we 
distinguished them; we were mistaken. Nothing vras to be 
heard but a monotonous concert of insects, with now and 
then the dismal howl of wolves mingling with the night breeze. 
We began to think of halting for the night, and bivouacking 
under the lee of some thicket. We had implements to strike a 



116 



A TOUR ON TllK RR AIRIES. 



light; there was plenty of firewood at hand, and the tongnes 
01 our buffaloes would furnish us with a repast. 

Just as we were preparing to dismount, we heard the report 
of a rifle, and shortly after, the notes of the bugle, calling up 
the night guard. Pushing forward in that direction, the camp 
fires soon broke on our sight, gleaming at a distance from 
among the thick groves of an alluvial bottom. 

As we entered the camp, we found it a scene of rude hun- 
ters’ revelry and wassail. There had been a grand day’s 
sport, in which all had taken a part. Eight buffaloes had been 
killed; roarmg fires were blazing on every side; all hands 
were feasting upon roasted joints, broiled marrow-bones, and 
the juicy hump, far-famed among the epicures of the prairies. 
Eight glad were we to dismount and partake of the sturdy 
cheer, for we had been on our weary horses since morning 
without tasting food. 

As to our worthy friend, the Commissioner, with whom we 
had parted company at the outset of this eventful day, we 
found him lying in a corner of the tent, much the worse for 
wear, in the course of a successful hunting match. 

It seems that our man, Beatte, in his zeal to give the Com- 
missioner an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and grati- 
fying his hunting propensities, had mounted him upon his 
half-wild horse, and started him in pursuit of a huge buffalo 
bull, that had already been frightened by the hunters. The 
horse, which was fearless as his owner, and, like him, had a 
considerable spice of devil in his composition, and who, 
besides, had been made familiar with the game, no sooner 
came in sight and scent of the buffalo, than he set off full 
speed, bearing the involuntary hunter hither and thither, and 
whither he v/ould not — up hill and down hill — leaping pools 
and brooks — dashing through glens and gullies, until he came 
up with the game. Instead of sheering off, he crowded upon 
the buffalo. The Commissioner, almost in seK-defence, dis- 
charged both barrels of a double-barrelled gun into the enemy. 
The broadside took effect, but was not mortal. The buffalo 
turned furiously upon his pursuer ; the horse, as he had been 
taught by his owner, wheeled off. The buffalo plunged after 
him. The worthy Commissioner, in great extremity, drew 
his sole pistol from his holster, fired it off as a stern -chaser, 
shot the buffalo full in the breast, and brought him lumbering 
forward to the earth. 

The Conunissioner returned to camp, lauded on all sides for 



A TOUR ON THE PRATRTES. 



117 



his signal exploit ; but grievously battered and way-worn. He 
had been a hard rider perforce, and a victor in spite of himself. 
He turned a deaf ear to all compliments and congratulations ; 
had but little stomach for the hunter’s fare placed before him, 
and soon retreated to stretch his limbs in the tent, declaring 
that nothing should tempt him again to mount that half devil 
Indian horse, and that he had had enough of buffalo hunting 
for the rest of his life. 

It was too dark now to send any one in search of the young 
Count. Guns, however, were fired, and the bugles sounded 
from time to time, to guide him to the camp, if by chance he 
should straggle within hearing; but the night advanced with- 
out his making his appearance. There vv^as not a star visible 
to guide him, and we concluded that wherever he wms, he 
would give up wandering in the dark, and bivouac until day- 
break. 

It was a raw, overcast night. The carcasses of the buffaloes 
killed in the vicinity of the camp had drawn about it an un- 
usual number of wolves, who kept up the most forlorn concert 
of whining yells, prolonged into dismal cadences and inflex- 
icns, literally converting the surrounding waste into a howling 
wilderness. Nothing is more melancholy than the midnight 
howl of a wolf on a prairie. What rendered the gloom and 
wildness of the night and the savage concert of the neighbor- 
ing waste the more dreary to us, was the idea of the lonely and 
exposed situation of our young and inexperienced comrade. 
We trusted, however, that on the return of daylight, he would 
find his way back to the camp, and then all the events of the 
night would be remembered only as so many savory gratifica^ 
tions of his passion for adventure. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

A HUNT FOR A LOST COMRADE. 

The morning dawned, and an hour or two passed without 
any tidings of the Count. We began to feel uneasiness lest, 
having no compass to aid him, he might perplex himself and 
wander in some opposite direction. Stragglers are thus often 
lost for days ; what made us the more anxious about him was, 



118 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



that he had no provisions with him, was totally unversed in 

woodcraft,” and hable to fall into the hands of some lurking 
or straggling party of savages. 

As soon as our people, therefore, had made their breakfast, 
we beat up for volunteers for a cruise in search of the Count. 
A dozen of the rangers, mounted on some of the best and 
freshest horses, and armed with rifles, were soon ready to 
start ; our half-breeds Beatte and Antoine also, with our little 
mongrel Frenchman, were zealous in the cause ; so Mr. L. and 
myself taking the lead, to show the way to the scene of our 
little hunt where we had parted company with the Count, we 
all set out across the prairie. A ride of a couple of miles 
brought us to the carcasses of the two buffaloes we had kflled. 
A legion of ravenous wolves were already gorging upon 
them. At our approach they reluctantly drew off, skulking 
with a caitiff look to the distance of a few hundred yards, and 
there awaiting our departure, that they might return to’ their 
banquet. 

I conducted Beatte and Antoine to the spot whence the 
young Count had continued the chase alone. It was like 
putting hounds upon the scent. They immediately distin- 
guished the track of his horse amidst the trampings of the 
buffaloes, and set off at a round pace, following with the eye 
in nearly a straight course, for upward of a mile, when they 
came to where the herd had divided, and run hither and 
thither about a meadow. Here the track of the horse’s hoofs 
wandered and doubled and often crossed each other; our half- 
breeds were like hounds at fault. While we were at a halt, 
waiting until they should unravel the maze, Beatte suddenly 
gave a short Indian whoop, or rather yelp, and pointed to a 
distant hill. On regarding it attentively, we perceived a 
horseman on the summit. ‘‘It is the Count!” cried Beatte, 
and set off at full gallop, followed by the whole company. 
In a few moments he checked his horse. Another figure on 
horseback had appeared on the brow of the hill. This com- 
pletely altered the case. The Count had wandered off alone ; 
no other person had been missing from the camp. If one of 
these horsemen were indeed the Count, the other must be an 
Indian. If an Indian, in all probability a Pawnee. Perhaps 
they were both Indians ; scouts of some party lurking in the 
vicinity. Wliile these and other suggestions were hastily dis- 
cussed, the two horsemen glided down from the profile of the 
hiU, and we lost sight of them. One of the rangers suggested 



A TOUJl ON THE PRAIRIES. 



119 



that there might be a straggling party of Pawnees behind 
the hill, and that the Count might have fallen into their 
hands. The idea had an electric effect upon the little troop. 
In an instant every horse was at full speed, the half-breeds 
leading the way ; the young rangers as they rode set up wild 
yelps of exultation at the thoughts of having a brush with the 
Indians. A neck or nothing gallop brought us to the skirts of 
the hill, and revealed our mistake. In a ravine we found the 
two horsemen standing by the carcass of a buffalo which they 
had killed. They proved to be two rangers, who, unperceived, 
had left the camp a little before us, and had come here in a 
.direct line, while we had made a wide circuit about the 
prairie. 

This episode being at an end, and the sudden excitement 
being over, we slowly and coolly retraced our steps to the 
meadow; but it was some time before our half-breeds could 
again get on the track of the Coimt. Having at length found 
it, they succeeded in following it through all its doublings, 
until they came to where it was no longer mingled with the 
tramp of buffaloes, but became single and separate, wandering 
here and there about the prairies, but always tending in a 
direction opposite to that of the camp. Here the Count had 
evidently given up the pursuit of the herd, and had endeav- 
ored to find his “way to the encampment, but had become 
bewildered as the evening shades thickened around him, and 
had completely mistaken the points of the compass. 

In all this quest our half-breeds displayed that quickness of 
eye, in following up a track, for which Indians are so noted. 
Beatte, especially, was as staunch as a veteran hound. Some- 
times he would keep forward on an easy trot ; his eyes fixed on 
the ground a little ahead of liis horse, clearly distinguishing 
prints in the herbage which to me were invisible, excepting 
on the closest inspection. Sometimes he would pull up and 
walk his horse slowly, regarding the ground intensely, where 
to my eye nothing was apparent. Then he would dismount, 
lead his horse by the bridle, and advance cautiously step by 
step, with his face bent towards the earth, just catching, here 
and there, a casual indication of the vaguest kind to guide 
him onward. In some places where the soil was hard and the 
grass withered, he would lose the track entirely, and wander 
backward and forward, and right and left, in search of it; 
returning occasionally to the place where he had lost sight of 
it, to take a new departure. If this failed he would examine 



120 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



tlie banks of the neighboring streams, or the sandy bottoms of 
the ravines, in hopes of finding tracks where the Count had 
crossed. When he again came upon the track, he would 
remount his horse, and resume his onward course. At length, 
after crossing a stream, in the crumbling banks of which the 
hoofs of the horse were deeply dented, we came upon a high 
dry prairie, where our half-breeds were completely baffled. 
Not a foot-print was to be discerned, though they searched in 
every direction; and Beatte, at length coming to a pause, 
shook his head despondingly. 

Just then a small herd of deer, roused from a neighboring 
ravine, came bounding by us. Beatte sprang from his horse, 
levelled his rifle, and wounded one slightly, but without bring- 
ing it to the ground. The report of the rifle was almost 
immediately followed by a long halloo from a distance. We 
looked around, but could see nothing. Another long halloo 
was heard, and at length a horseman was descried, emerging 
out of a skirt of forest. A single glance showed him to be the 
young Count ; there was a universal shout and scamper, every 
one setting off full gallop to greet him. It was a joyful meet- 
ing to both parties; for, much anxiety had been felt by us 
all oh account of his youth and inexperience, and for his part, 
with all his love of adventure, he seemed right glad to be once 
more among his friends. 

As we supposed, he had completely mistaken his course on 
the preceding evening, and had wandered about until dark, 
when he thought of bivouacking. The night was cold, yet he 
feared to make a fire, lest it might betray him to some lurking 
party of Indians. Hobbling his horse with his pocket hand- 
kerchief, and leaving him to graze on the margin of the prairie, 
he clambered into a tree, fixed his saddle in the fork of the 
branches, and placing hmiself securely with his back against 
the trunk, prepared to pass a dreary and anxious night, 
regaled occasionally with the bowlings of the wolves. He was 
.‘Xgreeably disappointed. The fatigue of the day soon brought 
on a sound sleep ; he had delightful dreams about his home in 
Switzerland, nor did he wake until it was broad daylight. 

He then descended from his roosting-place, mounted his 
horse, and rode to the naked summit of a hill, whence he be- 
held a trackless wilderness around him, but, at no great dis- 
tance, the Grand Canadian, winding its way between borders 
of forest land. Tlie sight of this river consoled him with the 
idea that, should he fail in finding his way back to the camp, 



A TOUR ON tup: PJlAllllES. 



121 



or in being found by some party of his comrades, he might 
follow the course of the stream, which could not fail to conduct 
him to some frontier post, or Indian hamlet. So closed the 
events of our hap-hazard buffalo hunt. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A REPUBLIC OF PRAIRIE DOGS. 

On returning from our expedition in quest of the young 
Count, I learned that a burrow, or village, as it is termed, of 
prairie dogs had been discovered on the level summit of a 
hill, about a mile from the camp. Having heard much of the 
habits and peculiarities of these little animals, I determined to 
pay a visit to the community. The prairie dog is, in fact, one 
of the curiosities of the Far West, about which travellers de- 
light to teU marvellous tales, endowing him at times with 
something of the politic and social habits of a rational being, 
and giving him systems of civil government and domestic 
economy, almost equal to what they used to bestow upon the 
beaver. 

The prairie dog is an animal of the coney kind, and about 
the size of a rabbit. He is of a sprightly mercurial nature; 
quick, sensitive, and somewhat petulant. He is very grega- 
rious, living in large communities, sometimes of several acres 
in extent, where innumerable little heaps of earth show the 
entrances to the subterranean ceUs of the inhabitants, and 
the well beaten tracks, like lanes and streets, show their mo- 
bility and restlessness. According to the accounts given of 
them, they would seem to be continually full of sport, business, 
and public affairs ; whisking about hither and thither, as if on 
gossiping visits to each other’s houses, or congregating in the 
cool of the evening, or after a shower, and gambolling together 
' in the open air. Sometimes, especially when the moon shines, 
they pass half the night in revelry, barking or yelping with 
short, quick, yet weak tones, like those of very young puppies. 
While in the height of their playfulness and clamor, however, 
should there be the least alarm, they all vanish into their cells 
in an instant, and the village remains blank and silent. In 
case they are hard pressed by their pursuers, without any 



122 



A TOUR OJ^ TEE PRAIRIES, 



hope of escape, they will assume a pugnacious air, and a most 
whimsical look of impotent wrath and defiance. 

The prairie dogs are not permitted to remain sole^ and undis- 
turbed inhabitants of their own homes. Owls and rattlesnakes 
are said to take up their abodes with them; but whether as 
invited guests or unwelcome intruders, is a matter of contro- 
versy. The owls are of a peculiar kind, and would seem to 
partake of the character of the hawk ; for they are taller and 
more erect on their legs, more alert in their looks and rapid in 
their flight than ordinary owls, and do not confine their ex- 
cursions to the night, but sally forth in broad day. 

Some say that they only inhabit cells which the prairie 
dogs have deserted, and suffered to go to ruin, in consequence 
of the death in them of some relative ; for they would make 
out this little animal to be endowed with keen sensibilities, 
that will not permit it to remain in the dwelling where it has 
witnessed the death of a friend. Other fanciful speculators 
represent the owl as a kind of housekeeper to the prairie dog ; 
and, from having a note very similar, insinuate that it acts, 
in a manner, as family preceptor, and teaches the young litter 
to bark. 

As to the rattlesnake, nothing satisfactory has been ascer- 
tained of the part he plays in this most interesting household ; 
though he is considered as little better than a sycophant and 
sharper, that winds himself into the concerns of the honest, 
credulous little dog, and takes him in most sadly. Certain it 
is, if he acts as toad-eater, he occasionally solaces himself with 
more than the usual perquisites of his order; as he is now and 
then detected with one of the younger members of the family 
in his maw. 

Such are a few of the particulars that I could gather about 
the domestic economy of this little inhabitant of the prairies, 
who, with his pigmy republic, appears to be a subject of much 
whimsical speculation and burlesque remarks among the hun^ 
ters of the Far West. 

It was toward evening that I set out with a companion, to 
visit the village in question. Unluckily, it had been invaded 
in the course of the day by some of the rangers, who had shot 
two or three of its inhabitants, and thrown the whole sensitive 
community in confusion. As we approached, we could per- 
ceive numbers of the inhabitants seated ad the entrances of 
their cells, while sentinels seemed to have been posted on the 
outskirts, to keep a look-out. At sight of us, the picket 



A TOUR ON THE PnAllUES. 



123 



guards scampered in and gave the alarm; whereupon every 
inhabitant gave a short yelp, or bark, and dived into his hole, 
his heels twinkling in the air as if he had thrown a somersault. 

We traversed the whole village, or republic, which covered 
an area of about thirty acres ; but not a whisker of an inhabi- 
tant was to be seen. We probed their cells as far as the ram- 
rods of our rifles would reach, but could unearth neither dog, 
nor owl, nor rattlesnake. Moving quietly to a little distance, 
we lay down upon the ground, and watched for a long time, 
silent and motionless. By and by, a cautious old burgher 
would slowly put forth the end of his nose, but instantly draw 
it in again. Another, at a greater distance, would emerge 
entirely; but, catching a glance of us, would throw a somer- 
sault, and plunge back again into his hole. At length, some 
who resided on the opposite side of the village, taking courage 
from the continued stillness, would steal forth, and hurry off 
to a distant hole, the residence possibly of some family connec- 
tion, or gossiping friend, about whose safety they were solici- 
tous, or with whom they wished to compare notes about the 
late occurrences. 

Others, still more bold, assembled in little knots, in the 
streets and public places, as if to discuss the recent outrages 
offered to the commonwealth, and the atrocious murders of 
their fellow-burghers. 

We rose from the ground and moved forward, to take a 
nearer view of these public proceedings, when yelp ! yelp ! yelp ! 
—there was a shrill alarm passed from mouth to mouth; the 
meetings suddenly dispersed ; feet twinkled in the air in every 
direction ; and in an instant all had vanished into the earth. 

The dusk of the evening put an end to our observations, but 
the train of whimsical comparisons produced in my brain by 
the moral attributes which I had heard given to these little 
politic animals, still continued after my return to camp ; and 
late in the night, as I lay awake after all the camp was asleep, 
and heard in the stillness of the hour, a faint clamor of shrill 
voices from the distant village, I could not help picturing to 
myself the inhabitants gathered together in noisy assemblage 
and windy debate, to devise plans for the public safety , and 
to vindicate the invaded rights and insulted dignity of the re- 
public. 



124 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



CHAPTEK XXXIII. 

A COUNCIL IN THE CAMP. — REASONS FOR FACING HOMEWARD.— 

HORSES LOST. — DEPARTURE WITH A DETACHMENT ON THE 

HOMEWARD ROUTE. — SWAMP.— WILD HORSE. — CAMP SCENES BY 

NIGHT.— THE OWL, HARBINGER OF DAWN. 

While breakfast was preparing, a council was held as to our 
future movements. Symptoms of discontent had appeared for 
a day or two past among the rangers, most of whom, unaccus- 
tomed to the life of the prairies, had become impatient of its 
privations, as well as the restraints of the camp. The want of 
bread had been felt severely, and they were wearied with con- 
stant travel. In fact, the novelty and excitement of the expe- 
dition were at an end. They had hunted the deer, the bear, the 
elk, the buffalo, and the- wild horse, and had no further object 
of leading interest to look forward to. A general inclination 
prevailed, therefore, to turn homeward. 

Grave reasons disposed the Captain and his officers to adopt 
this resolution. Our horses were generally much jaded by the 
fatigues of travelling and hunting, and had fallen away sadly 
for want of good pasturage, and from being tethered at night, 
to protect them from Indian depredations. The late rains, too, 
seemed to have washed away the nourishment from the scanty 
herbage that remained ; and since our encampment during the 
storm, our horses had lost flesh and strength rapidly. With 
every possible care, horses, accustomed to grain, and to the 
regular and plentiful nourishment of the stable and the farm, 
lose heart and condition in travelling on the prairies. In all 
expeditions of the kind we were engaged in, the hardy Indian 
horses, which are generally mustangs, or a cross of the wild 
breed, are to be preferred. They can stand all fatigues, hard- 
ships, and privations, and thrive on the grasses and the wild 
herbage of the plains. 

Our men, too, had acted with little forethought ; galloping ofl 
whenever they had a chance, after the game that we encoun- 
tered while on the march. In this way they had strained and 
wearied their horses, instead of husbanding their strength and 
spirits. On a tour of the kind, horses should as seldom as pos- 
sible be put off of a quiet walk ; and the average day’s journey 
should not exceed ten miles. 

W/3 had hoped, by pushing forward, to reach the bottoms of 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



125 



the Red River, which abound with young cane, a most nourish- 
ing forage for cattle at this season of the year. It would now 
take us several days to arrive there, and in the meantime 
many of our horses would probably give out. It was the time, 
too, when the hunting i^arties of Indians set fire to the prairies ; 
the herbage, throughout this part of the country, was in that 
parched state, favorable to combustion, and there was daily 
tnore and more risk that the prairies between us and the fort 
would be set on fire by some of the return parties of Osages, 
and a scorched desert left for us to traverse. In a word, we 
had started too late in the season, or loitered too much in the 
early part of our march, to accomplish our originally intended 
tour ; and there was imminent hazard, if we continued on, that 
we should lose the greater part of our horses; and, besides 
suffering various other inconveniences, be obliged to return 
on foot. It was determined, therefore, to give up all further 
progress, and, turning our faces to the southeast, to make the 
best of our way back to Fort Gibson. 

This resolution being taken, there was an immediate eagerness 
to put it into operation. Several horses, however, were miss- 
ing, and among others those of the Captain and the Surgeon. 
Persons had gone in search of them, but the morning advanced 
without any tidings of them. Our party, in the meantime, 
being all ready for a march, the Commissionor determined to 
set off in the advance, with his original escort of a lieutenant 
and fourteen rangers, leaving the Captain to come on at his 
convenience, with the main bodj\ At ten o’clock we accord- 
ingly started, under the guidance of Beatte, who had hunted 
over this part of the country, and knew the direct route to the 
garrison. 

For some distance we skirted the prairie, keeping a south-' 
east direction ; and in the course of our ride we saw a variety 
of wild animals, deer, white and black wolves, buffaloes, and 
wild horses. To the latter, our half-breeds and Tonish gave 
ineffectual chase, only serving to add to the weariness of their 
already jaded steeds. Indeed it is rarely that any but the 
Tweaker and least fleet of the wild horses are taken in these hard 
racings ; while the horse of the huntsman is prone to be knocked 
up. The latter, in fact, risks a good horse to catch a bad one. 
On this occasion, Tonish, who was a perfect imp on horseback, 
and noted for ruining every animal he bestrode, succeeded in 
laming and almost disabling the powerful gray on which we 
had mounted him at the outset of our tour. 



126 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



After proceeding a few miles, we left the prairie, and struck 
to the east, taking what Beatte pronounced an old Osage war- 
track. This led us through a rugged tract of country, over- 
grown with scrubbed forests and entangled thickets, and 
intersected by deep ravines, and brisk-running streams, the 
sources of Little Eiver. About three o’clock, we encamped by 
some pools of water in a small valley, having come about four- 
teen miles. We had brought on a supply of provisions from 
our last camp, and supped heartily upon stewed buffalo meat, 
roasted venison, beignets, or fritters of flour fried in bear’s lard, 
and tea made of a species of the golden-rod, which we had 
found, throughout our whole route, almost as grateful a beve- 
rage as coffee. Indeed our coffee, which, as long as it held out, 
had been served up with every meal, according to the custom 
of the West, was by no means a beverage to boast of. It was 
roasted in a frying-pan, without much care, pounded in a 
leathern bag, with a round stone, and boiled in our prime and 
almost only kitchen utensil, the camp kettle, in ‘‘branch” or 
brook water; which, on the prairies, is deeply colored by the 
soil, of which it always holds abundant particles in a state of 
solution and suspension. In fact, in the course of our tour, we 
had tasted the quality of every variety of soil, and the draughts 
of water we had taken might vie in diversity of color, if not of 
flavor, with the tinctures of an apothecary’s shop. Pure, 
limpid water is a rare luxury on the prairies, at least at this 
season of the year. Supper over, we placed sentinels about our 
scanty and diminished camp, spread our skins and blankets 
under the trees, now nearly destitute of foliage, and slept 
soundly until morning. 

We had a beautiful daybreak. The camp again resounded 
with cheerful voices; every one was animated with the 
thoughts of soon being at the fort, and revelling on bread and 
vegetables. Even our saturnine man, Beatte, seemed inspired 
on this occasion ; and as he drove up the horses for the march, 
I heard him singing, in nasal tones, a most forlorn Indian 
ditty. All this transient gayety, however, soon died away 
amidst the fatigues of our march, which lay through the sa^me 
kind of rough, hilly, thicketed country as that of yesterday. 
In the course of the morning we arrived at the valley of the 
Little Eiver, where it wound through a broad bottom of allu- 
vial soil. At present it had overflowed its banks, and inun- 
dated a great part of the valley. The difficulty was to distin- 
guish the stream from the broad sheets of water it had formed, 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



127 



and to find a place where it might be forded ; for it was in 
general deep and miry, with abrupt crumbling banks. Under 
the pilotage of Beatte, therefore, we wandered for some time 
among the links made by this winding stream, in what ap- 
peared to us a trackless labyrinth of swamps, thickets, and 
standing pools. Sometimes our jaded horses dragged their 
limbs forward with the utmost difficulty, having to toil for a 
great distance, with the water up to the stirrups, and beset at 
the bottom with roots and creeping plants. Sometimes we 
had to force our way through dense thickets of brambles and 
grapevines, which almost pulled us out of our saddles. In one 
place, one of the pack-horses sunk in the mire and fell on his 
side, so as to be extricated with great difficulty. Wherever 
the soil was bare, or there was a sand-bank, we beheld in- 
numerable tracks of bears, wolves, wild horses, turkeys, and 
water-fowl; sliov/ing the abundant sport this valley might 
afford to the huntsman. Our men, however, were sated with 
hunting, and too weary to be excited by these signs, which in 
the outset of our tour would have put them in a fever of antici- 
pation. Their only desire, at present, was to push on doggedly 
for tlie fortress. 

At length we succeeded in finding a fording place, where we 
all crossed Little Eiver, with the water and mire to the saddle- 
girths, and then halted for an hour and a half, to overhaul the 
wet baggage, and give the horses time to rest. 

On resuming our march, we came to a pleasant little mea- 
dow, surrounded by groves of elms and cottonwood trees, in 
the midst of which was a fine black horse grazing. Beatte, 
who was in the advance, beckoned us to halt, and, being 
mounted on a mare, approached the horse gently, step by step, 
imitating the whinny of the animal with admirable exactness. 
The noble courser of the prairie gazed for a time, snuffed the 
air, neighed, pricked up his ears, and pranced round and round 
ithe mare in gallant style ; but kept at too great a distance for 
Beatte to throw the lariat. He was a magnificent object, in 
all the pride and glory of his nature. It was admirable to see 
the lofty and airy carriage of his head ; the freedom of every 
movement; the elasticity with which he trod the meadow. 
Finding it impossible to get Avithin noosing distance, and seeing 
that the horse was receding and growing alarmed, Beatte slid 
doAvn from his saddle, levelled his rifle across the back of his 
mare, and took aim, with the evident intention of creasing 
him. I felt a throb of anxiety for the safety of the noble anh 



128 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



mal, and called out to Beatte to desist. It was too late; ho 
pulled the trigger as I spoke ; luckily he did not shoot with 
his usual accuracy, and I had the satisfaction to see the coal . 
black steed dash off unharmed into the forest. 

On leaving this valley, we ascended among broken hills and 
rugged, ragged forests, equally harassing to horse and rider. 
The ravines, too, were of red clay, and often so steep that, in 
descending, the horses would put their feet together and fairly 
slide down, and then scramble up the opposite side like cats. 
Here and there, among the thickets in the valleys, we met with 
sloes and persimmon, and the eagerness with which our men 
broke from the line of march, and ran to gather these poor 
fruits, showed how much they craved some vegetable condi- 
ment, after living so long exclusively on animal food. 

About half past three we encamped near a brook in a mea- 
dow, where there was some scanty herbage for our half -fam- 
ished horses. As Beatte had killed a fat doe in the course of 
the day, and one of our company a fine turkey, we did not lack 
for provisions. 

It was a splendid autimfiial evening. The horizon, after 
sunset, was of a clear apple green, rising into a delicate lake 
which gradually lost itself in a deep purple blue. One narrow 
streak of cloud, of a mahogany color, edged with amber and 
gold, floated in the west, and just beneath it was the evening 
star, shining with the pure brilliancy of a diamond. In unison 
with this scene, there was an evening concert of insects of 
various kinds, all blended and harmonized into one sober and 
somewhat melancholy note, which I have always found to 
have a soothing effect upon the mind, disposing it to quiet 
musings. 

The night that succeeded was calm and beautiful. There 
was a faint light from the moon, now in its second quarter, ' 
and after it had set, a fine starlight, with shooting meteors. 
The wearied rangers, after a little murmuring conversation 
round their fires, sank to rest at an early hour, and I seemed 
to have the whole scene to myself. It is delightful, in thus 
bivouacldng on the prairies, to lie awake and gaze at the stars ; 
it is like watching them from the deck of a ship at sea, when 
at one view we have the whole cope of heaven. One realizes, 
in such lonely scenes, that companionship with these beautiful 
luminaries which made astronomers of the eastern shepherds, 
as they watched their flocks by night. How often, while con- 
templating their nuld and benignant radiance, I have called to 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



120 



mind the exquisite text of Job: ‘‘Canstthou bind the secret 
influences of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?” I do 
not know why it was, but I felt this night unusually affected 
by the solemn magnificence of the firmament ; and seemed, as 
I lay thus under the open vault of heaven, to inhale with the 
pure untainted air, an exhilarating buoyancy of spirit, and, as it 
were, an ecstasy of mind. I slept and waked alternately ; and 
when I slept, my dreams partook of the happy tone of my 
waking reveries. Toward morning, one of the sentinels, the 
oldest man in the troop, came and took a seat near me ; he 
was weary and sleepy, and impatient to be relieved. I found 
he had been gazing at the heavens also, but with different 
feelings. 

'‘If the stars don’t deceive me,” said he, “it is near day- 
break.” 

“There can be no doubt of that,” said Beatte, who lay close 
by. “I heard an owl just now.” 

“ Does the owl, then, hoot toward daybreak?” asked I. 

“ Aye, sir, just as the cock crows.” 

This was a useful habitude of the bird of wisdom, of which 
I was not aware. Neither the stars nor owl deceived their 
votaries. In a short time there was a faint streak of light in 
the east. 



CHAPTER XXXIV.* 

OLD CREEK ENCAMPMENT.— SCARCITY OP PROVISIONS.— BAD 
WEATHER.— WEARY MARCHING.— A HUNTER’S BRIDGE. 

The country through which we passed this morning (Novem- 
ber 2d), was less rugged, and of more agreeable aspect than 
that we had lately traversed. At eleven o’clock, we came out 
upon an extensive prairie, and about six miles to our left be- 
held a long line of green forest, marking the course of the 
north fork of the Arkansas. On the edge of the prairie, and 
in a spacious grove of noble trees which overshadowed a small 
brook, were the traces of an old Creek hunting camp. On the 
bark of the trees were rude delineations of hunters and squaws, 
scrawled with charcoal ; together with various signs and hiero- 
glyphics, which our half-breeds interpreted as indicating that 
from this encampment the hunters had returned home. 



130 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 



In this beautiful camping ground we made our mid-day halt. 
While reposing under the trees, we heard a shouting at no 
great distance, and presently the Captain and the main body 
. of rangers, whom we had left behind two days since, emerged 
from the thickets, and crossing the brook, were joyfully wel- 
comed into the camp. The Captain and the Doctor had been 
unsuccessful in the search after their horses, and were obliged 
to march for the greater part of the time on foot ; yet they had 
come on with more than ordinary speed. 

We resumed our march about one o’clock, keeping easterly, 
and approaching the north fork obliquely ; it was late before 
we found a good camping place ; the beds of the streams were 
dry, the prairies, too, had been burnt in various places, by 
Indian hunting parties. At length we found water in a small 
alluvial bottom, where there was tolerable pasturage. 

On the following morning there were flashes of lightning in 
the east, with low, rumbling thunder, and clouds began to 
gather about the horizon. Beatte prognosticated rain, and 
that the wind would veer to the north. In the course of our 
march, a flock of brant were seen overhead, flying from the 
north. ‘‘There comes the wind!” said Beatte; and, in fact, it 
began to blow from that quarter almost immediately, with 
occasional flurries of rain. About half past nine o’clock, we 
forded the north fork of the Canadian, and encamped about 
one, that our hunters might have time to beat up the neigh- 
borhood for game ; for a serious scarcity began to prevail in 
the camp. Most of the rangers were young, heedless, and 
inexperienced, and could not be prevailed upon, while pro- 
visions abounded, to provide for the future, by jerking meat, 
or carry away any on their horses. On leaving an encamp- 
ment, they would leave quantities of meat lying about, trust- 
ing to Providence and their rifles for a future supply. The 
consequence was, that any temporary scarcity of game, or 
ill-luck in hunting, produced almost a famine in the camp. 
In the present instance, they had left loads of buffalo meat at 
the camp on the great prairie ; and, having ever since been on 
a forced march, leaving no time for hunting, they were now 
destitute of supplies, and pinched with hunger. Some had not 
eaten anything since the morning of the preceding day. 
Nothing would have persuaded them, when revelling in the 
abundance of the buffalo encampment, that they would so 
soon be in such famishing plight. 

The hunters returned with indifferent success. The game 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



131 



had been frightened away from this part of the country by 
Indian hunting parties, which had preceded us. Ten or a 
dozen wild turkeys were brought in, but not a deer had been 
seen. The rangers began to think turkeys and even prairie- 
hens deserving of attention; game which they had hitherto 
considered unworthy of their rifles. 

The night was cold and windy, with occasional sprinklings 
of rain ; but we had roaring fires to keep us comfortable. In 
the night, a flight of wild geese passed over the camp, making 
a great cackling in the air ; symptoms of approaching winter. 

We set forward at an early hour the next morning, in a 
northeast course, and came upon the trace of a party of Creek 
Indians, which enabled our poor horses to travel with more 
ease. W e entered upon a fine champaign country. From a ris^ 
ing ground we had a noble prospect, over extensive prairies, 
finely diversified by groves and tracts of woodland, and 
bounded by long lines of distant hills, all clothed with the 
rich mellow tints of autumn. Game, too, was more plenty. 
A fine buck sprang up from among the herbage on our right, 
and dashed off at full speed ; but a young ranger by the name 
of Childers, who was on foot, levelled his rifle, discharged a 
ball that broke the neck of the bounding deer, and sent him 
tumbling head over heels forward. Another buck and a doe, 
besides several turkeys, were killed before we came to a halt, 
so that the hungry mouths of the troop were once more sup- 
plied. 

About three o’clock we encamped in a grove after a forced 
march of twenty-five miles, tha.t had proved a hard trial to 
lihe horses. For a long time after the head of the line had 
encamped, the rest kept straggling in, two and three at a time ; 
one of our pack-horses had given out, about nine miles back, 
and a pony belonging to Beatte, shortly after. Many of the 
other horses looked so gaunt and feeble, that doubts were 
entertained of their being able to reach the fort. In the night 
there was heavy rain, and the morning dawned cloudy and 
dismal. The camp resounded, however, with something of its 
former gayety. The rangers had supped weU, and vrere reno- 
vated in spirits, anticipating a speedy arrival at the garrison. 
Before we set forward on our march, Beatte returned, and 
brought his pony to the camp with great difficulty. The 
pack-horse, however, was completely knocked up and had to 
be abandoned. The wild mare, to, had cast her foal, through 
exhaustion, and was not in a state to go forward. She and 



132 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



the pony, therefore, were left at this encampment, where 
there was water and good pasturage ; and where there would 
be a chance of their reviving, and being afterward sought 
out and brought to the garrison. 

We set off about eight o’clock, and had a day of weary and 
harassing travel ; part of the time over rough hills, and part 
over rolling prairies. 'The rain had rendered the soil slippery 
and plashy, so as to afford unsteady foothold. Some of the 
rangers dismounted, their horses having no longer strength to 
bear them. We made a halt in the course of the morning, but 
the horses were too tired to graze. Several of them lay down, 
and there was some difficulty in getting them on their feet 
again. Our troop presented a forlorn appearance, straggling 
slowly along, in a broken and scattered line, that extended 
over hill and dale, for three miles and upward, in groups of 
three and four, widely apart; some on horseback, some on 
foot, with a few laggards far in .the rear. About four o’clock, 
we halted for the night in a spacious forest, beside a deep nar- 
row river, called the Little North Fork, or Deep Creek. It 
was late before the main part of the troop straggled into the 
encampment, many of the horses having given out. As this 
stream was too deep to be forded, we waited until the next 
day to devise means to cross it ; but our half-breeds swam the 
horses of our party to the other side in the evening, as they 
would have better pasturage, and the stream was evidently 
swelling. The night was cold and unruly ; the wind sounding 
hoarsely through the forest and whirling about the dry leaves. 
We made long fires of great trunks of trees, which diffused 
something of consolation if not cheerfulness around. 

The next morning there was general permission given to 
hunt until twelve o’clock ; the camp being destitute of provi- 
sions. The rich woody bottom in which we were encamped 
abounded with wild turkeys, of which a considerable number 
were kiUed. In the meantime, preparations were made for 
crossing the river, which had risen several feet during the 
night; and it was determined to fell trees for the purpose, to 
serve as bridges. 

The Captain and Doctor, and one or two other leaders of 
the camp, versed in woodcraft, examined, with learned eye, 
the trees growing on the river bank, until they singled out a 
couple of the largest size, and most suitable inclinations. The 
axe was then vigorously applied to their roots, in such a way 
as to insure their falling directly across the stream. As they 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



133 



did not reach to the opposite bank, it was necessary for some 
of the men to swim across and fell trees on the other side, to 
meet them. They at length succeeded in making a precarious 
footway across the deep and rapid current, by which the bag- 
gage could be carried over ; but it was necessary to grope our 
way, step by step, along the trunks and main branches of the 
trees, which for a part of the distance were completely sub- 
merged, so that we were to our waists in water. Most of the 
horses were then swam across, but some of them were too 
weak to brave the current, and evidently too much knocked 
up to bear any further travel. Twelve men, therefore, were 
left at the encampment to guard these horses, until, by repose 
and good pasturage, they should be sufficiently recovered to 
complete their journey ; and the Captain engaged to send the 
men a supply of flour and other necessaries, as soon as we 
should arrive at the fort. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

A LOOK-OUT FOR LAND.— HARD TRAVELLING AND HUNGRY HALT- 
ING.— A FRONTIER FARMHOUSE.— ARRIVAL AT THE GARRISON. 

It was a little after one o’clock when we again resumed our 
weary wayfaring. The residue of that day and the whole of 
the next were spent in toilsome travel. Part of the way was 
over stony hills, part across wide prairies, rendered spongy 
and miry by the recent rain, and cut up by brooks swollen into 
torrents. Our poor horses were so feeble, that it was with 
difliculty we coifld get them across the deep ravines and turbu- 
lent streams. In traversing the miry plains, they slipped and 
staggered at every step, and most of us were obhged to dis- 
moimt and walk for the greater part of the way. Hunger pre- 
vailed throughout the troop ; every one began to look anxious 
and haggard, and to feel the growing length of each additional 
mile. At one time, in crossing a hill, Beatte climbed a high 
tree, commanding a wide prospect, and took a look-out, like a 
mariner from the mast-head at sea. He came down with 
cheering tidings. To the left he had beheld a line of forest 
stretching across the country, which he knew to be the woody 
border pf the Arkajisas; and at a distance he had recognized 



134 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



certain landmarks, from which he concluded that we could 
not be above forty miles distant from the fort. It was like the 
welcome cry of land to tempest-tossed mariners. 

In fact we soon after saw smoke rising from a woody glen at 
a distance. It was supposed to be made by a hunting-party of 
Creek or Osage Indians from the neighborhood of the fort, 
and was joyfully hailed as a harbinger of man. It was now 
confidently hoped that we would soon arrive among the fron- 
tier hamlets of Creek Indians, which are scattered along the 
skirts of the uninhabited wilderness ; and our hungry rangers 
trudged forward with reviving spirit, regaling themselves 
with savory anticipations of farmhouse luxuries, and enume- 
rating every article of good cheer, until their mouths fairly 
watered at the shadowy feasts thus conjured up. 

A hungry night, however, closed in upon a toilsome day. 
We encamped on the border of one of the tributary streams of 
the Arkansas, amidst the ruins of a stately grove that had 
been riven by a hurricane. The blast had torn its way through 
the forest in a narrow column, and its course was marked by 
enormous trees shivered and splintered, and upturned, with 
their roots in the air ; all lay in one direction, hke so many 
brittle reeds broken and trodden down by the hunter. 

Here was fuel in abundance, without the labor of the axe ; 
we had soon immense fires blazing and sparkling in the frosty 
air, and lighting up the whole forest; but, alas! we had no 
meat to cook at them. The scarcity in the camp almost 
amounted to famine. Happy was he who had a morsel of 
jerked meat, or even the half -picked bones of a former repast. 
For our part, we were more lucky at our mess than our neigh- 
bors; one of our men having shot a turkey. We had no bread 
to eat with it, nor salt to season it withal. It was simply 
boiled in water ; the latter was served up as soup, and we were 
fain to rub each morsel of the turkey on the empty salt-bag, 
in hopes some sahne particle might remain to relieve its in- 
sipidity. 

The night was biting cold ; the brilliant moonlight sparkled 
on the frosty crystals which covered every object around us. 
The waiter froze beside the skins on which we bivouacked, and 
in the morning I found the blanket in which I was wrapped 
covered wioh a hoar frost; yet I had never slept more com- 
fortably. 

After a c^iadow of a breakfast, consisting of turkey bones 
aud a cup of coffee without sugar, we decamped at an early 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 



135 



hour; for hunger is a sharp quickener on a journey. The 
prairies were all gemmed with frost, that covered the tall 
weeds and glistened in the sun. We saw great flights of 
prairie-hens, or grouse, that hovered from tree to tree, or sat 
in rows along the naked branches, waiting until the sun should 
melt the frost from the weeds and herbage. Our rangers no 
longer despised such humble game, but turned from the ranks 
in pursuit of a prairie-hen as eagerly as they formerly would 
go in pursuit of a deer. 

Every one now pushed forward, anxious to arrive at some 
human habitation before night. The poor horses were urged 
beyond their strength, in the thought of soon being able tc 
indemnify them for present toil, by rest and ample provender. 
Still the distances seemed to stretch out more than ever, and 
the blue hills, pointed out as landmarks on the horizon, to 
recede as we advanced. Every step became a labor; every 
now and then a miserable horse would give out and he down. 
His owner would raise him by main strength, force him for- 
ward to the margin of some stream, where there- might be a 
scanty border of herbage, and then abandon him to his fate. 
Among those that were thus left on the way, was one of the 
led horses of the Count ; a prime hunter, that had taken the 
lead of every thing in the chase of the wild horses. It was 
intended, however, as soon as we should arrive at the fort, to 
send out a party provided with corn, to bring in such of the 
horses as should survive. 

In the course of the morning, we came upon Indian tracks, 
crossing each other in various directions, a proof that we must 
be in the neighborhood of human habitations. At length, on 
passing through a skirt of wood, we beheld two or three log 
houses, sheltered under lofty trees on the border of a prairie, 
the habitations of Creek Indians, who had small farms adja- 
cent. Had they been sumptuous villas, abounding with the 
luxuries of civilization, they could not have been hailed with 
greater delight. 

Some of the rangers rode up to them in quest of food ; the 
greater part, however, pushed forward in search of the habita- 
tion of a white settler, which we were told was at no great dis- 
tance. The troop soon disappeared among the trees, and I 
followed slowly in their track ; for my once fleet and generous 
steed faltered under me, and was just able to drag one foot 
after the other, yet I was too weary and exhausted to spare him. 

In this way we crept on, until, on turning a thick clump of 



136 



A TOUR ON THE PRAlRlES. 



trees, a frontier farmhouse suddenly presented itself to view. 
It was a low tenement of logs, overshadowed by great forest 
trees, but it seemed as if a very region of Cocaigne prevailed 
around it. Here was a stable and barn, and granaries teem- 
ing with abundance, while legions of grunting swine, gobbling 
turkeys, cackling hens and strutting roosters, swarmed about 
the farmyard. 

My poor jaded and half -famished horse raised his head and 
pricked up his ears at the well-known sights and sounds. He 
gave a chuckling inward sound, something like a dry laugh; 
whisked liis tail, and made great leeway toward a corn-crib, 
filled with golden ears of maize, and it was with some difficulty 
that I could control his course, and steer him up to the door 
of the cabin. A single glance within was sufficient to raise 
every gastronomic faculty. There sat the Captain of the 
rangers and his officers, round a three-legged table, crowned 
by a broad and smoking dish of boiled beef and turnips. I 
sprang off my horse in an instant, cast him loose to make his 
way to the corn-crib, and entered this palace of plenty. A fat 
good-humored negress received me at the door. She was the 
mistress of the house, the spouse of the white man, who was 
absent. I hailed her as some swart fairy of the wild, that had 
suddenly conjured up a banquet in the desert; and a banquet 
was it in good sooth. In a twinkling, she lugged from the fire 
a huge iron pot, that might have rivalled one of the famous 
flesh-pots of Egypt, or the witches’ caldron in Macbeth. 
Placing a brown earthen dish on the floor, she inclined the 
corpulent caldron on one side, and out leaped sundry great 
morsels of beef, with a regiment of turnips tumbling after 
them, and a rich cascade of broth overflowing the whole. 
This she handed me with an ivory smile that extended from 
ear to ear; apologizing for our humble fare, and the humble 
style in which it was served up. Humble fare ! humble style ! 
Boiled beef and turnips, and an earthen dish to eat them from ! 
To think of apologizing for such a treat to a half -starved man 
from the prairies; and then such magnificent shces of bread 
and butter ! Head of Apicius, what a banquet ! 

“The rage of hunger” being appeased, I began to think of 
my horse. He, however, like an old campaigner, had taken 
good care of himself. I found him paying assiduous attention 
to the crib of Indian corn, and dexterously drawing forth and 
munching the ears that protruded between the bars. It was 
with great regret that I interrupted his repast, which he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



157 



abandoned with a heavy sigh, or rather a rumbling groan. I 
was anxious, however, to rejoin my travelhng companions, 
who had passed by the farmhouse without stopping, and pro- 
ceeded to the banks of the Arkansas ; being in hopes of arriv- 
ing before night at the Osage Agency. Leaving the Captain 
and his troop, therefore, amidst the abundance of the farm, 
where they had determined to quarter themselves for the night, 
I bade adieu to our sable hostess, and again pushed forward. 

A ride of about a mile brought me to where my comrades 
were waiting on the banks of the Arkansas, which here poured 
along between beautiful forests. A number of Creek Indians, 
in their brightly colored dresses, looking like so many gay 
tropical birds, were busy aiding our men to transport the bag- 
gage across the river in a canoe. While this was doing, our 
horses had another regale from two great cribs heaped up 
with ears of Indian corn, which stood near the edge of the 
river. We had to keep a check upon the poor half-famished 
animals, lest they should injure themselves by their voracity. 

The baggage being all carried to the opposite bank, we em- 
barked in the canoe, and swam our horses across the river. I 
was fearful, lest in their enfeebled state, they should not be 
able to stem the current ; but their banquet of Indian corn had 
already infused fresh life and spirit into them, and it would 
appear as if they were cheered by the instinctive conscious- 
ness of their approach to home, where they would soon be at 
rest, and in plentiful quarters ; for no sooner had we landed 
and resumed our route, than they set off on a hand-gallop, and 
continued so for a great part of seven miles, that we had to 
ride through the woods. 

It was an early hour in the evening when we arrived at the 
Agency, on the banks of the Verdigris Eiver, whence we had 
set off about a month before. Here we passed the night com- 
tortably quartered; yet, after having been accustomed to 
sleep in the open air, the confinement of a chamber was, in 
some respects, irksome. The atmosphere seemed close, and 
destitute of freshness; and when I woke in the night and 
gazed about me upon complete darkness, I missed the glorious 
companionship of the stars. 

The next morning, after breakfast, I again set forward, in 
company with the worthy Commissioner, for Fort Gibson, 
where we arrived much tattered, travel-stained, and weather- 
beaten, but in high health and spirits; — and thus ended my 
foray into the Pawnee Hunting Grounds. 



* ' . A - C ■ 



THE ADVENTURES 



OF 



CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 



BY 

WASHINGTON IRVING 



NEW YORK : 

rHE F. M. LUPTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
Nos. 72-76 Walker Street. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE 



While engaged in writing an account of the grand enter- 
prise of Astoria, it was my practice to seek all kinds of oral 
information connected with the subject. Nowhere did I pick 
up more interesting particulars than at the table of Mr. John 
Jacob Astor, who, being the patriarch of the fur trade in the 
United States, was accustomed to have at his board various 
persons of adventurous turn, some of whom had been engaged 
in his own great undertaking; others, on their own account, 
had made expeditions to the Rocky Mountains and the waters 
of the Columbia. 

Among these personages, one who peculiarly took my fancy 
was Captain Bonneville, of the United States army; who, in a 
rambling kind of enterprise, had strangely ingrafted the trap- 
per and hunter upon the soldier. As his expeditions and ad- 
ventures will form the leading theme of the following pages, a 
few biographical particulars concerning him may not be unac- 
ceptable. 

Captain Bonneville is of French parentage. His father was 
a worthy old emigrant, who came to this country many years 
since, and took up his abode in New York. He is represented 
as a man not much calculated for the sordid struggle of a 
money-making world, but possessed of a happy temperament, 
a festivity of imagination, and a simplicity of heart that made 
him proof against its rubs and trials. He was an excellent 
scholar ; well acquainted, with Latin and Greek, and fond of 
the modern classics. His book was his elysium; once im- 
mersed in the pages of Voltaire, Corneille, or Racine, or of his 
favorite English author, Shakspeare, he forgot the world and 
all its concerns. Often would he be seen, in sumrner weather, 
seated under one of the trees on the Battery, or the portico of 
St. Paul’s Church in Broadway, his bald head uncovered, his 
hat lying by his side, his eyes riveted to the page of his book, 



4 



INmODUGTORY NOTICE, 



and his whole soul so engaged as to lose all consciousness of the 
passing throng or the passing hour. 

Captain Bonneville, it will he found, inherited something of 
his father’s honhomie^ and his excitable imagination ; though 
the latter was somewhat disciplined in early years by mathe^ 
matical studies. He was educated at our national Military 
Academy at West Point, where he acquitted himself very 
creditably ; thence, he entered the army, in which he has ever 
since continued. 

The nature of our military service took him to the frontier, 
where, for a number of years he was stationed at various 
posts in the Far West. Here he was brought into frequent 
intercourse with Indian traders, mountain trappers, and other 
pioneers of the wilderness; and became so excited by their 
tales of wild scenes and wild adventures, and their accounts of 
vast and magnificent regions as yet unexplored, that an expe- 
dition to the Eocky Mountains became the ardent desire of his 
heart, and an enterprise to explore untrodden tracts, the lead- 
ing object of his ambition. 

By degrees he shaped his vague day-dream into a practical 
reality. Having made himself acquainted with all the requi- 
sites for a trading enterprise beyond the mountains, he deter- 
mined to undertake it. A leave of absence and a sanction of 
his expedition was obtained from the major-general in chief, 
on his offering to combine public utility with his private pro- 
jects, and to collect statistical information for the War De- 
partment concerning the wild countries and wild tribes he 
might visit in the course of his journey ings. 

Nothing now was wanting to the darling project of the cap- 
tain but the ways and means. The expedition would require 
an outfit of many thousand dollars ; a staggering obstacle to 
a soldier, whose capital is seldom anything more than his 
sword. F'ull of that buoyant hope, however, which belongs to 
the sanguine temperament, he repaired to New York, the 
great focus of American enterprise, where there are always 
funds ready for any scheme, however chimerical or romantic. 
Here he had the good fortune to meet with a gentleman of 
high respectability and influence, who had been his associate 
in boyhood, and who cherished a schoolfellow friendship for 
him. He took a general interest in the scheme of the captain ; 
introduced him to commercial men of his acquaintance, and in 
a little while an association was formed, and the necessary 
funds were raised to carry the proposed measure into effect 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 



5 



One of the most efficient persons in this association was Mr. 
Alfred Seton, who, when quite a youth, had accompanied one 
of the expeditions sent out by Mr. Astor to his commercial es- 
tablishments on the Columbia, and had distinguished himself 
by his activity and courage at one of the interior posts. Mr. 
Seton was one of the American youths who were at Astoria at 
the time of its surrender to the British, and who manifested 
such grief and indignation at seeing the flag of their country 
hauled down. The hope of seeing that flag once more planted 
on the shores of the Columbia may have entered into his mo- 
tives for engaging in the present enterprise. 

Thus backed and provided. Captain Bonneville undertook 
his expedition into the Far West, and was soon beyond the 
Eocky Mountains. Year after year elapsed without his re- 
turn. The term of his leave of absence expired, yet no re- 
port was made of him at headquarters at Washington. He 
was considered virtually dead or lost, and his name was 
stricken from the army list. 

It was in the autumn of 1835, at the country seat of Mr. 
John Jacob Astor, at Hellgate, that I first met with Captain 
Bonneville. He was then just returned from a residence of 
upward of three years among the mountains, and was on his 
way to report himself at headquarters, in the hopes of being 
reinstated in the service. From all that I could learn, his 
wanderings in the wilderness, though they had gratifled his 
curiosity and his love of adventure, had not much benefited 
his fortunes. Like Corporal Trim in his campaigns, he had 
“ satisfied the sentiment,” and that was all. In fact, he was 
too much of the frank, freehearted soldier, and had inherited 
too much of his father’s temperament, to make a scheming 
trapper, or a thrifty bargainer. There was something in the 
whole appearance of the captain that prepossessed me in his 
favor. He was of the middle size, well made and well set ; and 
a military frock of foreign cut, that had seen service, gave 
him a look of compactness. His countenance was frank, open, 
and engaging; well browned by the sun, and had something of 
a French expression. He had a pleasant black eye, a high fore- 
head, and, while he kept his hat on, the look of a man in the 
jocund prime of his days; but the moment his head was un- 
covered, a bald crown gained him credit for a few 'more years 
than he was really entitled to. 

Being extremely curious, at the time, about everything con- 
nected Ynth the Far West, I addressed numerous questions to 



6 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, 



him. They drew from him a number of extremely striking de 
tails, which were given with mingled modesty and frankness; 
and in a gentleness of manner, and a soft tone of voice, contrast- 
ing singularly with the wild and often startling nature of his 
themes. It was difl&cult to conceive the mild, quiet-looking 
personage before you, the actual hero of the stirring scenes 
related. 

In the course of three or four months, happening to be at the 
city of Washington, I again came upon the captain, who was 
attending the slow adjustment of his affairs with the War De- 
partment. I found him quartered with a worthy brother in 
arms, a major in the army. Here he was writing at a table, 
covered with maps and papers, in the centre of a large bar- 
rack room, fancifully decorated with Indian arms, and tro- 
phies, and war dresses, and the skins of various wild animals, 
and hung round with pictures of Indian games and ceremonies, 
and scenes of war and hunting. In a word, the captain was 
beguiling the tediousness of attendance at court by an attempt 
at authorship ; and was rewriting and extending his travelling 
notes, and making maps of the regions he had explored. As 
he sat at the table, in this curious apartment, with his high 
bald head of somewhat foreign cast, he reminded me of some 
of those antique pictures of authors that I have seen in old 
Spanish volumes. 

The result of his labors was a mass of manuscript, which he 
subsequently put at my disposal, to fit it for publication and 
bring it before the world. I found it full of interesting details 
of life among the mountains, and of the singular castes and 
races, both white men and red men, among whom he had 
sojourned. It bore, too, throughout, the impress of his charac- 
ter, his bonhomie^ his kindliness of spirit, and his susceptibility 
to the grand and beautiful. 

That manuscript has formed the staple of the following 
work. I have occasionally interwoven facts and details, 
gathered from various sources, especially from the conversa- 
tions and journals of some of the captain’s contemporaries, 
who were actors in the scenes he describes. I have also given 
it a tone and coloring drawn from my own observation during 
an excursion into the Indian country beyond the bounds of 
civilization ; as I before observed, however, the work is sub- 
stantially the narrative of the worthy captain, and many of 
its most graphic passages are but Uttle varied from his own 
language. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 



7 



I shall conclude this notice by a dedication which ho had 
made of his manuscript to his hospitable brother in arms, in 
whose quarters I found him occupied in his literary labors ; it 
is a dedication which, I believe, possesses the qualities, not 
always found in complimentary documents of the kind, of 
being sincere, and being merited. 

TO 

JAMES HARVEY HOOK, 

MAJOR, U. S. A., 

WHOSE JEALOUSY OF ITS HONOR, 

WHOSE ANXIETY FOR ITS INTERESTS, 

AND 

WHOSE SENSIBILITY FOR ITS WANTS, 

HAVE ENDEARED HIM TO THE SERVICE AS 

2T8e SolliCer's iTrienlr; 

AND WHOSE GENERAL AMENITY, CONSTANT CHEERFULNESS, 
DISINTERESTED HOSPITALITY, AND UNWEARIED 
BENEVOLENCE, ENTITLE HIM TO THE 
STILL LOFTIER TITLE OF 

THE FRIEND OF MAN, 



New York, 1843, 



THIS WORK IS INSCRIBBDi 
ETC. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CONTEKTS. 



Introductory Notice 



PAGE 

3 



CHAPTER I. 

State of the Fur Trade of the Rocky Mountains— American enterprise— General 
Ashley and his associates — Sublette, a famous leader — yearly rendezvous 
among the mountains— stratagems and dangers of the trade— bands of trap- 
pers— Indian banditti— Crows and Blackfeet— Mountaineers— traders of the 
Far West— character and habits of the trapper 



CHAPTER II. 

Departure from Fort Osage— modes of transportation— pack-horses— wagons— 
Walker and Cerr6— their characters— buoyant feelings on launching upon the 
Prairies— wild equipments of the trappers— their gambols and antics— differ- 
ence of character between the American and French trappers— Agency of the 
Kansas— General Clarke— White Plume, the Indian chief — night scene in a 
trader’s camp — colloquy between White Plume and the captain— bee-hunters 
— their expeditions— their feuds with the Indians— bargaining talent of White 
Plume 24 



CHAPTER HI. 

Wide Prairies— vegetable productions —tabular hills— slabs of sandstone— 
Nebraska, or Platte River— scanty fare— buffalo skulls— wagons turned into 
boats— herds of buffalo— cliffs resembling castles— The Chimney — Scott’s 
Bluffs— story connected with them— the Bighorn or Ahsahta— its nature and 
habits— difference between that and the “Woolly Sheep,” or Goat of , the 
Mountains 31 



CHAPTER IV. 

An alarm— Crow Indians— their appearances— mode of approach— their venge- 
ful eri'and— their curiosity— hostility between the Crows and Blackfeet — lov- 



10 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

ing conduct of the Crows— Larmie’s Fork— first navigation of the Nebraska- 
Great elevation of the [country— rarity of the atmosphere— its effect, on the 
woodwork of wagons— Black Hills— their wild and broken scenery— Indian 
dogs— Crow trophies— sterile and dreary country— banks of the Sweet Water 
—buffalo hunting— adventure of Tom Cain, the Irish cook 36 



CHAPTER V. 

Magnificent scenery— Wind River Mountains— treasury of waters— a stray horse 
—an Indian trail— trout streams— the great Green River valley— an alarm— a 
band of trappers— Fontenelle— his information— sufferings of thii*st— encamp- 
ment on the Seeds-Ke-Dee— strategy of rival traders— fortification of the camp 
—the Blackfeet— banditti of the mountains— their character and habits 44 



CHAPTER VI. 

Sublette and his band— Robert Campbell— Mr. Wyeth and a band of “Down- 
Easters”— Yankee enterprise— Fitzpatrick— his adventure with the Blackfeet 
—a rendezvous of mountaineers— the battle of Pierre’s Hole— an Indian am- 
buscade— Sublette’s return 51 



CHAPTER VH. 

Retreat of the Blackfeet— Fontenelle’s camp in danger— Captain Bonneville and 
the Blackfeet — free trappers — their character, habits, [dress, equipments, 
horses— game fellows of the mountains— their visit to the camp— good fellow- 
ship and good cheer— a carouse— a swagger, a brawl, and a reconciliation. ... 61 



CHAPTER Vin. 

Plans for the winter— Salmon River— abundance of salmon west of the moun- 
tains — new arrangements — caches— Cerr^’s detachment— movement in Fon- 
tenelle’s camp— departure of the Blackfeet— their fortunes — Wind [Mountain 
streams — Buckeye, the Delaware hunter, and the grizzly bear — bones of mur- 
dered travellers— visit to Pierre's Hole-traces of the battle— Nez Perc6s In- 
dians — arrival at Salmon River 65 



CHAPTER IX. 

Horses turned loose — preparations for winter quarters— hungry times — Nez 
Perces, their honesty, piety, pacific habits, religious ceremonies— Captain Bon- 
neville’s conversations with them— their love of gambling 71 



CHAPTER X. 

Blackfeet in the horse prairie— search after the hunters— difficulties and dangers 
— a card party in the wilderness — the card party interrupted— “ Old Sledge” a 
losing game— visitors to the camp — ^Iroquois hunters— hanging-eared Indians.. 75 



CHAPTER XI. 

Rival trapping parties — Manoeuvering — a desperate game — ^Vanderburgh and the 
Blackfeet— deserted camp— fire— a dark defile —an Indian ambush— a fierce 



CONTENTS. 



11 



t»AGE 

mel6e— fatal consequences— Fitzpatrick and the brldge—trappers’ precautiobs 
— meeting with the Blackfeet — more fighting— anecdote of a young Mexican 
and an Indian girl 7 ^ 

CHAPTER XII. 

A winter camp in the wilderness— medley of trappers, hunters, and Indians— 
scarcity of game— new arrangements in the camp— detachments sent to a dis- 
tance-carelessness of the Indians when encamped — sickness among the In- 
dians— excellent character of the Nez Perc6s— the Captain’s effort as a pacifi- 
cator — a Nez Perc4s argument in favor of war— robberies by the Blackfeet — 
long suffering of the Nez Perces— a him ter ’s Elysium among the mountains — 
more robberies— the Captain preaches up a crusade— the effect upon his 



hearers 84 

CHAPTER Xm. 

Story of Kosato, the renegade Blackfoot 92 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The party enters the mountain gorge— a wild fastness among the hills— moun- 
tain mutton— peace and plenty— the amorous trapper— a piebald wedding— a 
free trapper’s wife~her gala equipments— Christmas in the wilderness 95 

CHAPTER XV. 

A hunt after hunters— hungry times— a voracious repast— wintry weather — 
Godin’s River— splendid winter scene on the great lava plain of Snake River- 
severe travelling and tramping in the snow — Manoeuvres of a solitary Indian 
horseman — encampment on Snake River— Banneck Indians— the horse chief— 
his charmed life - 101 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Misadventures of Matthieu and his party— return to the caches at Salmon River 
—battle between Nez Perces and Blackfeet— heroism of ft Nez Perc4s woman 
— enrolled among the braves - * lOT 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Opening of the caches— detachments of Cerr6 and Hodgkiss— Salmon River 
Mountains— superstition of an Indian trapper— Godin’s River— preparations 
for trapping — an alarm— an interruption — a rival band — phenomena of Snake 
River plain— vast clefts and chasms— ingulfed streams— sublime scen^y— a 
grand buffalo hunt ^ 112 

CHAPTER XVIH. 

Meeting with Hodgkiss— misfortunes of the Nez Perc6s— schemes of Kosato, the 
renegade — his foray into the horse prairie— invasion of Blackfeet— Blue John 
and his Forlorn Hope— their generous enterprise— their fate— consternation 
and despair of the village— solemn obsequies — attempt at Indian trade — Hud- 
son’s Bay Company’s monopoly — arrangements for autumn— breaking up of 
an encampment 11? 



12 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

-- PACiE 

Precautions in dangerous defiles— trappers’ mode of defence on a prairie— a 
mysterious visitor— arrival in Green River Valley— adventures of the detach- 
ments— the forlorn partisan— his tale of disasters 134 



CHAPTER XX. 

Gathering in Green River Valley— visi tings and feastingsof leaders— rough was- 
sailing among the trappers— wild blades of the mountains— Indian belles— 
potency of bright beads and red blankets— arrival of supplies— revelry and ex- 
travagance-mad wolves— the lost Indian 129 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Schemes of Captain Bonneville— the great Salt Lake— expedition to explore it— 
preparations for a journey to the Bighorn 133 



CHAPTER XXII. 

The Crow country— the Crow paradise— habits of the Crows— anecdotes of Rose, 
the renegade white man— his fights with the Blackfeet — his elevation— his 
death— Arapooish, the Crow chief— his eagle —adventure of Robert Campbell 
—honor among the Crows 135 



CHAPTER XXm. 

Departure from Green River Valley— Popo Agie— its course— the rivers into 
which it runs —scenery of the bluffs— the great Jar Spring— volcanic tracts in 
the Crow country— burning mountain of Powder River— Sulphur Springs — 
hidden fires — Colter’s Hell— Wind River— Campbell’s party— Fitzpatrick and 
his trappers — Captain Stewart, an amateur traveller — Nathaniel Wyeth— anec- 
dotes of his expedition to the Far West — disaster of Campbell’s party— a union 
of bands— the bad pass— the Rapids — departure of Fitzpatrick — embarkation 
of Peltries— Wyeth and his bull boat— adventures of Captain Bonneville in the 
Bighorn Mountains— adventures in the plains— traces of Indians— travelling 
precautions— dangers of making a smoke— the rendezvous 141 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Adventures of [a party of ten— the Balaamite mule— a dead point— the mysteri- 
ous elks— a night attack— a retreat— travelling under an alarm— a joyful meet- 
ing-adventures of the other party — a decoy elk— retreat to an island — a sav- 
age dance of triumph— arrival at Wind River 148 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Captain Bonneville sets out for Green River Valley— journey up the Popo Agie 
— buffaloes — the staring white bears— the smoke — the Warm Springs — attempt 
to traverse the Wind River Mountains— the great slope— mountain dells and 
chasms— crystal lakes— ascent of a snowy peak— sublime prospect— a pano- 
rama— “ Les dignes de Pitie,” or Wild Men of the Mountains 163 



CONTENTS. 



13 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

PAGE 

^ retrograde move— Channel of a mountain torrent— Alpine scenery— cascades 
—beaver valleys— beavers at work— their architecture— their modes of felling 
trees— mode of trapping the beaver— contests of skill— a beaver “ up to trap ” 
—arrival at the Green River caches i« 5 q 



CHAPTER XXVH. 

Route towards Wind River— dangerous neighborhood— alarms and precautions 
—a sham encampment— apparition of an Indian spy— midnight move— a 
mountain defile— the Wind River valley— tracking a party— deserted camps 
— symptoms^of Crows— meeting of comrades— a trapper entrapped— Crow 
pleasantry— Crow spies— a decampment— return to Green River Valley- 
meeting with Fitzpatrick’s party— their adventures among the Crows— ortho- 
dox Crows 16 g 



CHAPTER XXVHL 

A region of natural curiosities — the plain of white clay — Hot Springs — the Beer 
Spring — departure to seek the trappers — plain of Portneuf— lava— chasms and 
gullies— Banneck Indians— their hunt of the buffalo— hunters’ feast— trencher 
heroes — bullying of an absent foe — the damp comrade — Indian spy — meeting 
with Hodgkiss— his adventures — Poordevil Indians — triumph of the Bannecks 
— Blackfeet policy in war 171 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Winter camp at the Portneuf— fine springs— the Banneck Indians— their honesty 
— Captain Bonneville prepares for an expedition — Christmas— the American 
Falls— wild scenery— Fishing Falls— Snake Indians— scenery of the Bruneau— 
view of the volcanic country from a mountain— Powder River— Shoshokoes, 
or Root Diggers— their character, habits, habitations, dogs— vanity at its last 
shift 178 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Temperature of the climate— Root Diggers on horse— an Indian guide— moun- 
^ tain prospects— the Grand Rond— difficulties on Snake River— a scramble over 
the Blue Mountains— sufferings from hunger— prospect of the Immahah Val- 
ley— the exhausted traveller 186 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Progress in the Valley— an Indian cavalier— the Captain falls into a lethargy— 
a Nez Pereas partriarch— hospitable treatment— the bald head— bargaining 
—value of an old plaid cloak— the family horse— the cost of an Indian present 192 



CHAPTER XXXH. 

Nez Perc4s camp— a chief with a hard name— the big hearts of the East— hos- 
pitable treatment — the Indian guides— mysterious councils — the loquacious 



14 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

chief— Indian tomb— grand Indian reception— an Indian feast— town-criers— 
honesty of the Nez Perc6s— the Captain’s attempt at healing 198 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Scenery of the Way -Lee-Way —a substitute for tobacco— sublime scenery of 
Snake River— the garrulous old chief and his cousin— a Nez Pereas meeting— 
a stolen skin— a scapegoat dog— mysterious conferences— the little chief —his 
hospitality— the Captain’s account of the United States— his healing skill 205 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Fort Wallah- Wallah— its commander— Indians in its neighborhood— exertions 
of Mr. Pambrune for their improvement— religion— code of laws— range of the 
lower Nez Perces — Camash and other roots — Nez Perces horses — preparations 
for departure— refusal of supplies— departure— a laggard and glutton 212 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

The uninvited guest— free and easy manners— salutary jokes— a prodigal son — 
exit of the glutton— a sudden change in fortune— danger of a visit to poor 
relations— plucking of a prosperous man— a vagabond toilet— a substitute for 
the very fine horse— hard travelling— the uninvited guest and the patriarchal 
colt— a beggar on horseback— a catastrophe— exit of the merry vagabond 216 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The difficult mountain— a smoke and consultation— the Captain’s speech— an 
icy turnpike— danger of a false step— arrival on Snake River— return to Port- 
neuf— meeting of comrades 222 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Departure for the rendezvous— a war party of Blackfeet— a mock bustle— sham 
fights at night — warlike precautions— dangers of a night attack— a panic 
among horses — cautious march— the Beer Springs — a mock carousal— skir- 
mishing with buffaloes — a buffalo bait — arrival at the rendezvous— meeting 
of various bands • 



CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

Plan of the Salt Lake expedition — great sandy deserts— sufferings from thirst 
—Ogden’s River— trails and smoke of lurking Indians— thefts at night— a trap- 
per’s revenge — alarms of a guilty conscience— a murderous victory — Califor- 
nian Mountains— plains along the Pacific— Arrival at Monterey — account of 
the place and neighborhood— Lower California — its extent — the peninsula— 
soil— climate— production— its settlement by the Jesuits— their sway over the 
Indians— their expulsion— ruins of a missionary establishment— sublime scen- 
ery— Upper California— missions— their power and policy— reso^^’ces of the 
country — designs of foreign nations 231 



f 



CONTENTS. 



15 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

PAGE 

Gay life at Monterey— Mexican horsemen— a bold dragoon— use of the lasso— 
Vaqueros— noosing a bear— fight between a bull and a bear— departure from 
Monterey— Indian horse-stealers— outrages committed by the travellers— 
indignation of Captain Bonneville 238 



CHAPTER XL. 

Travellers’ tales— Indian lurkers— prognostics of Buckeye— signs and portents— 
the Medicine wolf— an alarm— an ambush— the captured provant— triumph of 
Buckeye— arrival of supplies— grand carouse— arrangements for the year— 



Mr. Wyeth and his new- levied band 242 

CHAPTER XLI. 

A voyage in a bull boat * 246 



CHAPTER XLII. 

Departure of Captain Bonneville for the Columbia— advance of Wyeth — efforts 
to keep the lead— Hudson’s Bay party— a junketing— a delectable beverage- 
honey and alcohol — high carousing — the Canadian “bon vivant’’ — a cache — 
a rapid move— Wyeth and his plans— his travelling companions— buffalo hunt- 
ing-more conviviality — an interruption 259 



CHAPTER XLIH. 

A rapid march— a cloud of dust— wild horsemen— “ High jinks ’’-horse-racing 
and rifle shooting — the game of hand— the fishing season — mode of fishing — 
table lands — salmon fishers — the Captain’s visit to an Indian lodge — the Indian 
girl— the pocket mirror— supper— troubles of an evil conscience 264 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

Outfit of a trapper— risks to which he is subjected — partnership of trappers— 
enmity of Indians — distant smoke— a country on fire — Gun Creek — Grand 
Rond— fine pastures— perplexities in a smoky country — conflagration of 
forests 269 



CHAPTER XLV. 

The Skynses— their traffic— hunting— food— horses— a horse-race— devotional 
feeling of the Skynses, Nez Pereas, and Flatheads— prayers— exhortations — 
a preacher on horseback— effect of religion on the manners of the tribes— 
a new light 273 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

Scarcity in the camp— refusal of supplies by the Hudson’s Bay Company— con- 
duct of the Indians— a hungry retreat— John Day’s River— the Blue Moun- 



16 



CONTE'NTS. 



PAGE 

tains— salmon fishing on Snake River — messengers from the Crow country— Bear 
River Valley- immense immigration of Buffalo— danger of buffalo hunting— a 
wounded Indian— Eutaw Indians— a “ surround ” of antelopes 277 

CHAPTER XLVn. 

A festive winter— conversion of the Shoshonies— visit of two free trappers— gayety in 
the camp— a touch of the tender passion— the reclaimed squaw— an Indian fine 
lady— an elopement— a pursuit— market value of a bad wife 283 

CHAPTER XLVm. 

Breaking up of winter quarters— move to Green River— a trapper and his rifle— an 
arrival in camp— a free trapper and his squaw in distress— story of a Blackfoot 
belle 28T 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

Rendezvous at Wind River— campaign of Montero and his brigade in the Crow coun- 
try-wars between the Crows and the Blackfeet— death of Arapooish— Blackfeet 
lurkers— sagacity of the horse— dependence of the hunter on his horse— return to the 
settlements.. . - 291 

APPENDIX. 

Nathaniel J. Wyeth and the trade of the Far West 298 

Wreck of a Japanese Junk on the Northwest Coast 300 



Adventures of Captain Bonneville. 



CHAPTEK I. 

STATE OF THE FUR TRADE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS — AMERICAN 

ENTERPRISES GENERAL ASHLEY AND HIS ASSOCIATES SUBLETTE, 

A FAMOUS LEADER YEARLY RENDEZVOUS AMONG THE MOUNTAINS 

STRATAGEMS AND DANGERS OF THE TRADE BANDS OF TRAPPERS 

INDIAN BANDITTI CROWS AND BLACKFEET MOUNTAINEERS 

TRADERS OF THE FAR WEST CHARACTER AND HABITS OF THE 

TRAPPER. 

/ 

’ In a recent work we have given an account of the grand enter- 
prise of Mr. John Jacob Astor, to establish an American empo- 
rium for the fur trade at the mouth of the Columbia, or Oregon 
Eiver ; of the failure of that enterprise through the capture of 
Astoria by the British, in 1814 ; and of the way in which the 
control of the trade of the Columbia and its dependencies fell 
into the hands of the Northwest Company. We have stated, 
likewise, the unfortunate supineness of the American Govern- 
ment, in neglecting the application of Mr. Astor for the protec- 
tion of the American flag, and a small military force, to enable 
him to reinstate himself in the possession of Astoria at the re- 
turn of peace ; when the post was formally given up by the 
British Government, though still occupied by the Northwest 
Company. By that supineness the sovereignty in the country 
has been virtually lost to the United States ; and it will cost 
both governments much trouble and difficulty to settle matters 
on that just and rightful footing, on which they would readily 
have been placed, had the proposition of Mr. Astor been at- 
tended to. We shall now state a few particulars of subsequent 
events, so as to lead the reader up to the period of which we 



18 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



are about to treat, and to prepare him for the circumstances of 
our narrative. 

In consequence of the apathy and neglect of the American 
Government, Mr. Astor abandoned aU thoughts of regaining 
Astoria, and made no further attempt to extend his enterprises 
beyond the Eocky Mountains; and the Northwest Company 
considered themselves the lords of the country. They did not 
long enjoy unmolested the sway which they had somewhat sur- 
reptitiously attained. A fierce competition ensued between them 
and their old rivals, the Hudson’s Bay Company ; which was 
carried on at great cost and sacrifice, and occasionally with 
the loss of life. It ended in the ruin of most of the partners of 
the Northwest Company; and the merging of the relics of that 
establishment, in 1821, in the rival association. From that 
time, the Hudson’s Bay Company enjoyed a monopoly of the 
Indian trade from the coast of the Pacific to the Eocky Moun- 
tains, and for a considerable extent north and south. They 
removed their emporium from Astoria to Fort Vancouver, a 
strong post on the left bank of the Columbia Eiver, about sixty 
miles from its mouth; whence they furnished their interior 
posts, and sent forth their brigades of trappers. 

The Eocky Mountains formed a vast baiTier between them 
and the United States, and their stern and awful defiles, their 
rugged valleys, and the great western plains watered by their 
rivers, remained almost a terra incognita to the American 
trapper. The difficulties experienced in 1808, by Mr. Henry, of 
the Missouri Company, the first American who trapped upon 
the head- waters of the Columbia ; and the frightful hardships 
sustained by Wilson P. Hunt, Eamsay Crooks, Eobert Stuart, 
and other intrepid Astorians, in their ill-fated expeditions 
across the mountains, appeared for a time to check ah further 
enterprise in that direction. The American traders contented 
themselves with following up the head branches of the Mis^ 
souri, the Yellowstone, und other rivers and streams on the 
Atlantic side of ffie mountains, but forbore to attempt those 
great snow-crowned sierras. 

One of the first to reviv^e these tramontane expeditions was 
General Ashley, of Missouri, a man whose courage and achieve- 
ments in the prosecution of his enterprises have rendered him 
famous in the Far West. In conjunction with Mr. Henry, al- 
ready mentioned, he established a post on the banks of the 
Yellowstone Eiver, in 1822, and in the following year pushed a 
resolute band of trappers across the mountains to the banks of 



ABVEJNTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNE VILDE, 



19 



the Green Kiver or Colorado of the West, often known by tli( 
Indian name of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie.* This attempt was fol- 
lowed up and sustained by others, until in 1825 a footing was 
secured, and a complete system of trapping organized beyona 
the mountains. 

It is difficult to do justice to the courage, foi^titude, and per- 
severance of the pioneers of the fur trade, who conducted these 
early expeditions, and first broke their way through a wilder- 
ness where everything was calculated to deter and dismay 
them. They had to traverse the most dreary and desolate 
mountains, and barren and trackless wastes, uninhabited by 
man, or occasionally infested by predatory and cruel savages. 
They knew nothing of the country beyond the verge of their 
horizon, and had to gather information as they wandeiw 
They beheld volcanic plains stretching around them, and 
ranges of mountains piled up to the clouds and glistening with 
eternal frost ; but knew nothing of their defiles, nor how they 
were to be penetrated or traversed. They launched themselves 
in frail canoes on rivers, without knowing whither their swift 
currents would carry them, or what rocks, and shoals, and 
rapids, they might encounter in their course. They had to be 
continually on the alert, too, against the mountain tribes, who 
beset every defile, laid ambuscades in their path, or attacked 
them in their night encampments ; so that, of the hardy bands 
of trappers that first entered into these regions, three fifths are 
said to have fallen by the hands of savage foes. 

In this wild and warlike school a number of leaders have 
sprung up, originally in the employ, subsequently partners of 
Ashley; among these we may mention Smith, Fitzpatrick, 
Bridger, Eobert Campbell, and William Sublette; whose adven- 
tures and exploits partake of the wildest spirit of romance. 
The association commenced by General Ashley underwent va^ 
rious modifications. That gentleman having acquired suffi- 
cient fortune, sold out his interest and retired ; and the lea ling 
spirit that succeeded him \vas Captain William Sublette ; a man 
worthy of note, as his name has become renowned in f rontier 
story. He is a native of Kentucky, and of game descent; 
his maternal grandfather. Colonel Wheatley, a companion of 
Boone, having been one of the pioneers of the West, celebrated 
in Indian warfare, and killed in one of the contests of the 
‘ ‘ Bloody Ground. ” We shall frequently have occasion to speak 



Kiver. Agie in the Crpw language signifies riv^r 



20 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNBYILLB. 



of this Sublette, and always to the credit of his game qualities. ' 
In 1830, the association took the name of the Rocky Mountain 
Fur Company, of wliich Captain Sublette and Robert Campbell 
were prominent members. 

In the meantime, the success of this company attracted the 
attention and excited the emulation of the American Fur Com- 
pany and brought them once more into the field of their ancient 
anterprise. Mr. Astor, the founder of the association, had re- 
bired from busy life, and the concerns of the company were 
ably managed by Mr. Ramsay Crooks, of Snake River renown, 
who stiU officiates as its president. A competition immediate- 
ly ensued between the two companies, for the trade with the 
mountain tribes, and the trapping of the head-waters of the 
Columbia and the other great tributaries of the Pacific. Be- 
side the regular operations of these formidable rivals, there 
have been from time to time desultory enterprises, or rather 
experiments, of minor associations, or of adventurous indi- 
viduals, beside roving bands of independent trappers, who 
either hunt for themselves, or engage for a single season in the 
service of one or other of the main companies. 

The consequence is, that the Rocky Mountains and the ulte- 
rior regions, from the Russian possessions in the north down to 
the Spanish settlements of California, have been traversed and 
ransacked in every direction by bands of hunters and Indian 
traders; so that there is scarcely a mountain pass, or defile, 
that is not knovm and threaded in their restless migrations, 
nor a nameless stream that is not haunted by the lonely 
trapper. 

The American fur companies keep no established posts beyond 
the mountains. Everything there is regulated by resident part- 
ners; that is to say, partners who reside in the tramontane 
country, but who move about from place to place, either with 
Indian tribes, whose traffic they wish to monopoliric, or with 
main bodies of their own men, whom they employ in trading 
and trapping. In the r meantime, they detach bands, or ‘‘bri- 
gades” as they are termed, of trappers in various directions, as= 
signing to each a portion of country as a, hunting or trapping 
ground. In the months of June and July, when there is an in- 
terval between the hunting seasons, a general rendezvous is 
held, at some designated place in the mountains, where the af- 
fairs of the past year are settled by the resident partners, and 
the plans for the following year arranged. 

To this rendezvous repair the various brigades of trappers 



ADVENTVRES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



21 



from their widely separated hunting grounds, bringing in the 
products of their year’s campaign. Hither also repair the In- 
dian tribes accustomed to traffic their peltries with the com- 
pany. Bands of free trappers resort hither also, to sell the 
furs they have collected ; or to engage their services for the 
next hunting season. 

To this rendezvous the company sends annually a convoy of 
supplies from its establishment on the Atlantic frontier, under 
the guidance of some experienced partner or officer. On the 
arrival of this convoy, the resident partner at the rendezvous 
depends, to set all his next year’s machinery in motion. 

Now as the rival companies keep a vigilant eye upon each 
other, and are anxious to discover each other’s plans and move- 
ments, they generally contrive to hold their annual assem- 
blages at no great distance apart. An eager competition ex- 
ists also between their respective convoys of supphes, which 
shall first reach its place of rendezvous. For this purpose they 
set off with the first appearance of grass on the Atlantic fron- 
tier, and push with all diligence for the mountains. The com- 
pany that can first open its tempting supplies of coffee, tobac- 
co, ammunition, scarlet cloth, blankets, bright shawls, and 
glittering trinkets, has the greatest chance to get all the peltries 
and furs of the Indians and free trappers, and to engage their 
services for the next season. It is able, also, to fit out and dis- 
patch its own trappers the soonest, so as to get the start of its 
competitors, and to have the first dash into the hunting and 
trapping grounds. 

A new species of strategy has sprung out of this hunting and 
trapping competition. The constant study of the rival bands 
is to forestall and outwit each other; to supplant each other in 
the good-will and custom of the Indian tribes ; to cross each 
other’s plans ; to mislead each other as to routes ; in a word^ 
next to his own advantage, the study of the Indian trader is the 
disadvantage of his competitor. 

The influx of this wandering trade has had its effects on the 
habits of the mountain tribes. They have found the trapping 
of the beaver their most profitable species of hunting; and the 
traffic with the white man has opened to them sources of lux- 
ury of which they previously had no idea. The introduction, 
of firearms has rendered them more successful hunters, but at 
the same time more formidable foes ; some of them incorrigibly 
savage and warlike in their nature have found the expeditions 
of the fur traders grand objects of profitable adventure. To 



22 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



waylay and harass a band of trapper:: with their pack-horses, 
when embarrassed in the rugged defiles of the mountains, has 
become as favorite an exploit with these Indians as the plunder 
of a caravan to the Arab of the desert. The Crows and Black- 
feet, who were such terrors in the path of the early adventurers 
to Astoria, still continue their predatory habits, but seem to 
have brought them to greater system. They know the routes 
and resorts of the trappers; where to waylay them on their 
journeys; where to find them in the hunting seasons, and 
where to hover about them in winter quarters. The life of a 
trapper, therefore, is a pei'petual state militant, and he must 
sleep with his weapons in his hands. 

A new oi*der of trappers and traders, also, has grown out of 
this system of things. In the old times of the great North- 
west Company, when the trade in furs was pursued chiefly 
about the lakes and rivers, the expeditions were carried on in 
batteaux and canoes. The voyageurs or boatmen were the 
rank and file in the service of the trader, and even the hardy 
“men of the north,” those great rufflers and game birds, were 
fain to be paddled from point to point of their migrations. 

A totally different class has now sprung up; — “the Moun- 
taineers,” the traders and trappers that scale the vast moun- 
tain chains, and pursue their hazardous vocations amid their 
wild recesses. They move from place to place on horseback. 
The equestrian exercises, therefore, in which they are en- 
gaged, the nature of the countries they traverse, vast plains 
and mountains, pure and exhilarating in atmospheric quahties, 
seem to make them physically and mentally a more lively and 
mercurial race than the fur traders and trappers of former 
days, the self- vaunting “men of the north.” A man who be- 
strides a horse must be essentially different from a man who 
cowers in a canoe. We find them, accordingly, hardy, lithe, 
vigorous, and active; extravagant in word, and thought, and 
deed; heedless of hardship; daring of danger; prodigal of the 
present, and thoughtless of the future. 

A difference is to be perceived even between these mountain 
hunters and those of the lower regions along the waters of the 
Missouri. The latter, generally French creoles, live comfor- 
tably in cabins and log-huts, well sheltered from the inclem- 
encies of the seasons. They are within the reach of frequent 
supplies from the settlements ; their life is comparatively free 
from danger, and from most of the vicissitudes of the upper 
wilderness. The consequence is, that they are less hardy, self- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 23 

dependent and game-spirited, than the mountaineer. If the 
latter by chance comes among them on his way to and from 
the settlements, he is like a game-cock among the common 
roosters of the poultry-yard. Accustomed to live in tents, or 
to bivouac in the open air, he despises the comforts and is im- 
patient of the confinement of the log-house. If his meal is 
not ready in season, he takes his rifle, hies to the forest or 
prairie, shoots his own game, lights his fire, and cooks his 
repast. With his horse and his rifle, he is independent of the 
world, and spurns at all its restraints. The very superintend- 
ents at the lower posts will not put him to mess with the com- 
mon men, the hirelings of the estabhshment, but treat him as 
something superior. 

There is, perhaps, no class of men on the face of the earth, 
saj^s Captain Bonneville, who led a hfe of more continued ex- 
ertion, peril, and excitement, and who are more enamored of 
their occupations, than the free trappers of the West. No toil, 
no danger, no privation can turn the trapper from his pursuit. 
His passionate excitement at times resembles a mania. In vain 
may the most vigilant and cruel savages beset his path; in 
vain may rocks and precipices, and wintry torrents oppose his 
progress ; let but a single track of a beaver meet his eye, and 
he forgets all dangers and defies all difficulties. At times, he 
may be seen with his traps on his shoulder, buffeting his way 
across rapid streams, amid floating blocks of ice; at other 
times, he is to be found with his traps swung on his back 
climbing the most rugged mountains, scaling or descending 
the most frightful precipices, searching, by routes inaccessible 
to the horse, and never before trodden by white man, for 
springs and lakes unknown to his comrades, and where he 
may meet with his favorite game. Such is the mountaineer, 
the hardy trapper of the West; and such, as we have slightly 
sketched it, is the wild, Robin Hood kind of life, with all its 
strange and motley populace, now existing in full vigor among 
the Rocky Mountains. 

Having thus given the reader some idea of the actual state of 
the fur trade in the interior of our vast continent, and made 
him acquainted with the wild chivalry of the mountains, we will 
no longer delay the introduction of Captain Bonneville and his 
band into this field of their enterprise, but launch them at 
once upon the perilous plains of the Far West. 



*^ 4 - 



ADVENT UliES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER II. 

DEPARTURE FROM FORT OSAGE— MODES OF TRANSPORTATION- 
PACK-HORSES— WAGONS— WALKER AND CERRE; THEIR CHAR 
ACTERS— BUOYANT FEELINGS ON LAUNCHING UPON THE PRAI- 
RIES — WILD EQUIPMENTS OF THE TRAPPERS — THEIR GAMBOLS 
AND ANTICS— DIFFERENCE OF CHARACTER BETWEEN THE AMER- 
ICAN AND FRENCH TRAPPERS — AGENCY OF THE KANSAS- 
GENERAL CLARKE— WHITE PLUME, THE KANSAS CHIEF— NIGHT 
SCENE IN A trader’s CAMP— COLLOQUY BETWEEN WHITE PLUME 
AND THE CAPTAIN— BEE-HUNTERS— THEIR EXPEDITIONS— THEIR 
FEUDS WITH THE INDIANS— BARGAINING TALENT OF WHITE 
PLUME. 

It was on the first of May, 1832, that Captain Bonneville 
’ ook his departure from the frontier post of Fort Osage, on the 
' j'ssouri. He had enlisted a party of one hundred and ten 
men, most of whom had been in the Indian country, and some 
of whom were experienced hunters and trappers. Fort Osage, 
and other places on the borders of the western wilderness, 
abound with characters of the kind, ready for any expedition. 

The ordinary mode of transportation in these great inland 
expeditions of the fur traders is on mules and pack-horses; but 
Captain Bonneville substituted wagons. Though he was to 
travel through a trackless wilderness, yet the greater part of 
his route would lie across open plains, destitute of forests, and 
where wheel carriages can pass in every direction. The chief 
difficulty occurs in passing the deep ravines cut through the 
prairies by streams and winter torrents. Here it is often 
necessary to dig a road down the banks, and to make bridges 
for the wagons. 

In transporting his baggage in vehicles of this kind. Captain 
Bonneville thought he would save the great delay caused every 
morning by packing the horses, and the labor of unpacking in 
the evening. Fewer horses also would be required; and less risk 
incurred of their wandering away, or being frightened or car- 
ried off by the Indians. The wagons, also, would be more 
easily defended, and might form a Kind of fortification in case 
of attack in the open prairies. A train of twenty wagons. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



25 



drawn by oxen, or by four mules or horses each, and laden 
with merchandise, ammunition, and provisions, were disposed 
in two columns in the centre of the party, which was equally 
divided into a van and a rear-guard. As sub-leaders or lieu- 
tenants in his expedition. Captain Bonneville had made choice 
of Mr. I. K. Walker and Mr. M. S. Cerre. The former was a 
native of Tennessee, about six feet high, strong built, darit 
complexioned, brave in spirit, though mild in manners. He 
had resided for many years in Missouri, on the frontier ; had 
been among the earliest adventurers to Santa Fe, where he 
went to trap beaver, and was taken by the Spaniards. Being 
hberated, he engaged with the Spaniards and Sioux Indians in 
a war against the Pawnees ; then returned to Missouri, and had 
acted by turns as sheriff, trader, trapper, until he was enlisted 
as a leader by Captain Bonneville. 

Cerre, his other leader, had likewise been in expeditions to 
Santa Fe, in which he had endured much hardship. He was 
of the middle size, light complexioned, and though but about 
twenty-five years of age, was considered an experienced In- 
dian trader. It was a great object with Captain Bonneville to 
get to the mountains before the summer heats and summer 
flies should render the travelling across the prairies distress- 
ing; and before the annual assemblages of people connected 
with the fur trade should have broken up, and dispersed to the 
hunting grounds. 

The two rival associations already mentioned, the American 
Fur Company and the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, had 
their several places of rendezvous for the present year at no 
great distance apart, in Pierre’s Hole, a deep valley in the 
heart of the mountains, and thither Captain Bonneville in- 
tended to shape his course. 

It is not easy to do justice to the exulting feelings of the 
worthy captain, at finding himself at the head of a stout band 
of hunters, trappers, and woodmen; fairly launched on the 
broad prairies, with his face to the boundless west. The 
tamest inhabitant of cities, the veriest spoiled child of civili- 
zation, feels his heart dilate and his pulse beat high on finding 
himself on horseback in the glorious wilderness; what then 
must be the excitement of one whose imagination had been 
stimulated by a residence on the frontier, and to whom the 
wilderness was a region of romance ! 

His hardy followers partook of his excitement. Most of 
them had already experienced the wild freedom of savage life. 



26 



ABVEh’TUnim OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and looked forward to a renewal of past scenes "of adventure 
and exploit. Their very appearance and equipment exhibited 
a piebald mixture, half civilized and half savage. Many of 
them looked more like Indians than white men, in their garbs 
and accoutrements, and their very horses were caparisoned in 
barbaric style, with fantastic trappings. The outset of a band 
of adventurers on one of these expeditions is always animated 
and joyous. The welkin rang with their shouts and yelps, 
after the manner of the savages ; and with boisterous jokes 
and light-hearted laughter. As they passed the straggling 
hamlets and solitary cabins that fringe the skirts of the fron- 
tier, they would startle their inmates by Indian yells and war- 
whoops, or regale them with grotesque feats of horsemanship 
well suited to their half savage appearance. Most of these 
abodes were inhabited by men who had themselves been in 
similar expeditions; they welcomed the travellers, therefore, 
as brother trappers, treated them with a hunter’s hospitality, 
and cheered them with an honest God speed at parting. 

And here we would remark a great difference, in point of 
character and quality, between the two classes of trappers, the 
‘^American” and ^‘French,” as they are called in contradis- 
tinction. The latter is meant to designate the French creole 
of Canada or Louisiana; the former the trapper of the old 
American stock, from Kentucky, Tennessee, and others of the 
Western States. The French trapper is represented as a 
lighter, softer, more self-indulgent kind of man. He must 
have his Indian wife, his lodge, and his petty conveniences. 
He is gay and thoughtless, takes little heed of landmarks, de- 
pends upon his leaders and companions to think for the com- 
mon weal, and, if left to himself, is easily perplexed and lost. 

The American trapper stands by himself, and is peerless for 
the service of the wilderness. Drop him in the midst of a 
prairie, or in the heart of the mountains, and he is never at 
a loss. He notices every landmark; can retrace his route 
through the most monotonous plains, or the most perplexed 
labyrinths of the mountains ; no danger nor difficulty can ap- 
pall him, and he scorns to complain under any privation. In 
equipping the two kinds of trappers, the Creole and Canadian 
are apt to prefer the light fusee ; the American always grasps 
his rifle; he despises what he calls the “shot-gun.” We give 
these estimates on the authority of a trader of long experience, 
and a foreigner by birth. “ I consider one American,” said he, 
“equal to three Canadians in point of sagacity, aptness at 



Al)Vh]jSTUIlES OF CAVTAJIM BONFIJVILI.F. 



21 



resources, self-dependence, and fearlessness of spirit. In fact, 
no one can cope with him as a stark tramper of the wilder- 
ness.” 

Beside the two classes of trappers just mentioned, Captain 
Bonneville had enlisted several Delaware Indians in his em- 
ploy, on whose hunting qualifications he placed great reliance. 

On the 6th of May the travellers passed the last border habi- 
Nation, and bade a long farewell to the ease and security of 
civilization. The buoyant and clamorous spirits with which 
they had commenced their march gradually subsided as they 
entered upon its difficulties. They found the prairies saturated 
with the heavy cold rains prevalent in certain seasons of the 
year in this part of the country, the wagon wheels sank deep 
in the mire, the horses were often to the fetlock, and both 
steed and rider were completely jaded by the evening of the 
12th, when they reached the Kansas Eiver; a fine stream 
about three hundred yards wide, entering the Missoari from 
the south. Though fordable in almost every part at the end of 
summer and during the autumn, yet it was necessary to con- 
struct a raft for the transportation of the wagons and effects. 
All this was done in the course of the follov/ing day, and by 
evening the whole party arrived at the agency of the Kansas 
tribe. This was under the superintendence of General Clarke, 
brother of the celebrated traveller of the same name, who, 
with Lewis, made the first expedition down the waters of the 
Columbia. He was living like a patriarch, surrounded by 
laborers and interpreters, all snugly housed, and provided with 
excellent farms. The functionary next in consequence to the 
agent was the blacksmith, a most important, and, indeed, in- 
dispensable personage in a frontier community. The Kansas 
resemble the Osages in features, dress, and language; they 
raise corn and hunt the buffalo, ranging the Kansas Eiver and 
its tributary streams ; at the time of the captain’s visit they 
were at war with the Pawnees of the Nebraska, or Platte 
Eiver. 

The unusual sight of a train of wagons caused quite a sensa= 
tion among these savages ; who thronged about the caravan, 
examining everything minutely, and asking a thousand ques- 
tions ; exhibiting a degree of excitability, a.nd a lively curi- 
osity, totally opposite to that apathy with which their race is 
so often reproached. 

The personage who most attracted the captain’s attention at 
this place was ‘‘White Plume,” the Kansas chief, and they 



28 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



soon became good friends. White Plume (we are pleased with 
liis chivalrous soubriquet) inhabited a large stone hcfuse, built 
for him by order of the American Government; but the estab- 
lishment had not been carried out in corresponding style. 
It might be palace without, but it was wigwam within ; so 
that, between the stateliness of his mansion and the squalid- 
ness of his furniture, the gallant White Plume presented some 
such Avhimsical incongruity as we see in the gala equipments 
of an Indian chief on a treaty-making embassy at Washing- 
ton, who has been generously decked out in cocked hat and 
military coat, in contrast to his breech-clout and leathern 
leggins; being grand officer at top, and ragged Indian at bot 
tom. 

AiVhite Plume was so taken with the courtesy of the captain, 
and pleased with one or two presents received from him, that 
he accompanied him a day’s journey on his march, and passed 
a night in his camp, on the margin of a small stream. The 
method of encamping generally observed by the captain was 
as follows: The twenty wagons v/ere disposed in a square, at 
the distance of thirty-three feet from each other. In every 
interval there was a mess stationed; and each mess hai its 
fire, where tke men cooked, ate, gossiped, and slept. The 
horses were placed in the centre of the square, with a guard 
stationed over them at night. 

The horses were ‘ ‘ side lined, ” as it is termed ; that is to say, 
the fore and hind foot on the same side of the animal were 
tied together, so as to be within eighteen inches of each other. 
A horse thus fettered is for a time sadly embarrassed, but soon 
becomes sufficiently accustomed to the restraint to move about 
slowly. It prevents his wandering ; and his being easily car- 
ried off at night by lurking Indians. When a horse that is 
“foot free” is tied to one thus secured, the latter forms, as it 
v/ere, a pivot, round which the other runs and curvets, in case 
of alarm. 

The encampment of which we are speaking presented a 
striking scene. The various mess-fires were surrounded by 
picturesque groups, standing, sitting, and rechning; some 
busied in cooking, others in cleaning their weapons; while 
the frequent laugh told that the rough joke or merry story 
was going on. In the middle of the camp, before the principal 
lodge, sat the two chieftains. Captain Bonneville and White 
Plume, in soldier-like communion, the captain delighted with 
the opportunity of meeting, on social terms, with one ^^f the 



AI)VI^:2sTUJIIl!S of captain BONNKVlUAu 



20 



red warriors of the wilderness, the unsophisticated children of 
nature. The latter was squatted on his buffalo robe, his strong 
features and red skin glaring in the broad light of a blazing 
fire, while he recounted astounding tales of the bloody exploits 
of his tribe and himself in their wars with the Pawnees ; for 
there are no old soldiers more given to long campaigning 
stories than Indian ‘‘braves.” 

The feuds of White Plume, however, had not been confined 
to the red men ; he had much to say of brushes with bee hunt- 
ers, a class of offenders for whom he seemed to cherish a 
particular abhorrence. As the species of hunting prosecuted 
by these worthies is not laid down in any of the ancient books 
of venerie, and is, in fact, peculiar to our western frontier, a 
word or two on the subject may not be unacceptable to the 
reader. 

The bee hunter is generally some settler on the verge of the 
prairies; a long, lank fellow, of fever and ague complexion, 
acquired from living on new soil, and in a hut built of green 
logs. In the autumn, when the harvest is over, these frontier 
settlers form parties of two or three, and prepare for a bee 
hunt. Having provided themselves with a wagon, and a num- 
ber of empty casks, they sally off, armed with their rifles, 
into the wilderness, directing their course east, west, north, or 
south, without any regard to the ordinance of the American 
Government which strictly forbids all trespass upon the lands 
belonging to the Indian tribes. 

The belts of woodland that traverse the lower prairies and 
border the rivers are peopled by innumerable swarms of wild 
bees, which make their hives in hollow trees, and fill them 
with honey tolled from the rich flowers of the prairies. The 
bees, according to popular assertion, are migrating, like the 
settlers, to the west. An Indian trader, well experienced in 
the country, informs us that within ten years that he has 
passed in the Far West, the bee has advanced westward above 
a hundred miles. It is said on the Missouri that the wild tur- 
key and the wild bee go up the river together ; neither is found 
in the upper regions. It is but recently that the wild turkey 
has been killed on the Nebraska, or Platte ; and his travelling 
competitor, the wild bee, appeared there about the same time. 

Be all this as it may ; the course of our party of bee hunters 
is to make a wide circuit through the woody river bottoms, 
and the patches of forest on the prairies, marking, as they go 
out, every tree in which they have detected a hive. These 



30 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



marks are generally respected by any other bee hunter that 
should come upon their track. Yv^hen they have marked suffi- 
cient to fill all their casks, they turn their faces homeward, cut 
down the trees as they proceed, and having loaded their 
wagon with honey and wax, return well pleased to the settle- 
ments. 

Now it so happens that the Indians relish wild honey as 
highly as do the white men, and are the more delighted with 
this natural luxury from its having, in many instances, but 
recently made its appearance in their lands. The consequence 
is numberless disputes and conflicts between them and the bee 
hunters ; and often a party of the latter, returning, laden with 
rich spoil from one of their forays, are apt to be waylaid by the 
native lords of the soil ; their honey to be seized, their harness 
cut to pieces, and themselves left to find their way home the 
best way they can, happy to escape with no greater personal 
harm than a sound rib-roasting. 

Such were the marauders of whose offences the gallant 
White Plume made the most bitter complaint. They were 
chiefiy the settlers of the western part of Missouri, who are 
the most famous bee hunters on the frontier, and whose fa- 
vorite hunting ground lies within the lands of the Kansas 
tribe. According to the account of White Plume, however, 
matters were pretty fairly balanced between him and the of- 
fenders; he having as often treated them to a taste of the 
bitter, as they had robbed him of the sweets. 

It is but justice to this gallant chief to say that he gave 
proofs of having acquired some of the lights of civilization 
from his proximity to the whites, as was evinced in his knowl- 
edge of driving a bargain. He required hard cash in return 
for some corn with which he supplied the worthy captain, and 
left the latter at a loss which most to admire, his native chiv^ 
airy as a brave or his acquired adroitness as a trader. 



ADVEISTUUKS OF 0 AFT AIM UOMMKVILLK. 



81 



CHAPTER III. 

WIDE PRAIRIES— VEGETABLE PRODUCTIONS— TABULAR HILLS— 
SLABS OF SANDSTONE— NEBRASKA OR PLATTE RIVER— SCANTY 
PARE— BUFFALO SKULLS— WAGONS TURNED INTO BOATS— 
HERDS OF BUFFALO— CLIFFS RESEMBLING CASTLES — THE CHIM- 
NEY — SCOTT’S BLUFFS — STORY CONNECTED WITH THEM — THE 
BIGHORN OR AHSAHTA— ITS NATURE AND HABITS — DIFFERENCE 
BETWEEN THAT AND THE WOOLLY SHEEP,” OR GOAT OF THE 
MOUNTAINS. 

From the middle to the end of May, Captain Bonneville pur- 
sued a western course over vast undulating plains, destitute of 
tree or shrub, rendered miry by occasional rain, and cut up by 
deep water-courses where they had to dig roads for their 
wagons down the soft crumbling banks, and to throw bridges 
across the streams. The v/eather had attained the summer 
heat ; the thermometer standing about fifty-seven degrees in 
the morning, early, but rising to about ninety degrees at noon. 
The incessant breezes, however, which sweep these vast plains, 
render the heats endurable. Game was scanty, and they had 
to eke out their scanty fare with wild roots and vegetables, such 
as the Indian potato, the wild onion, and the prairie tomato, and 
they met with quantities of red root,” from which the hunt- 
ers make a very palatable beverage. The only human being 
that crossed their path was a Kansas warrior, returning from 
some solitary expedition of bravado or revenge, bearing a 
Pawnee scalp as a trophy. 

The country gradually rose as they proceeded westward, and 
their route took them over high ridges, commanding wide and 
beautiful prospects. The vast plain was studded on the west 
with innumerable hills of conical shape, such as are seen north 
of the Arkansas River. These hills have their summits appar- 
ently cut off about the same elevation, so as to leave flat surfaces 
at top. It is conjectured by some that the whole country may 
originally have been of the altitude of these tabular hills, but 
through some process of nature may have sunk to its present 
level; these insulated eminences being protected by broad foun- 
dations of solid rock. 



32 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



Captain Bonneville mentions another geological phenomenon 
north of Eed Eiver, where the surface of the earth, in consid- 
erable tracts of country, is covered with broad slabs of sand- 
stone, having the form and position of grave-stones, and look- 
ing as if they had been forced up by some subterranean 
agitation. “The resemblance,”' says he, “which these very 
remarkable spots have in many places to old churchyards is 
curious in the extreme. One might almost fancy himself 
among the tombs of the pre- Adamites. ” 

On the 2d of June they arrived on the main stream of the 
Nebraska or Platte Eiver ; twenty-five miles below the head of 
the Great Island. The low banks of this river give it an ap- 
pearance of great width. Captain Bonneville measured it in 
one place, and found it twenty-two hundred yards from bank 
to bank. Its depth was from three to six feet, the bottom full 
of quicksands. The Nebraska is studded with islands covered 
with that species of poplar called the cotton-wood tree. Keep- 
ing up along the course of this river for several days, they 
were obliged, from the scarcity of game, to put themselves 
upon short allowance, and occasionally to kill a steer. They 
bore their daily labors and privations, however, with great 
good humor, taking their tone, in all x)robability, from the 
buoyant spirit of their leader. “If the weather was inclem- 
ent,” says the captain, “ we Vv^atched the clouds, and hoped for 
a sight of the blue sky and the merry sun. If food was scanty, 
we rega-led ourselves Avitb the hope of soon falling in with herds 
of buffalo, and having nothing to do but slay and eat.” We 
doubt whether the genial captain is not describing the cheeri- 
ness of his own breast, which gave a cheery aspect to every- 
thing around him. 

There certainly were evidences, however, that the country 
was not always equally destitute of game. At one place they 
observed a field decorated with buffalo skulls, arranged in cir- 
cles, curves, and other mathematical figures, as if for some 
mystic rite or ceremony. They were almost innumerable, and 
seemed to have been a vast hecatomb offered up in thanks- 
giving to the Great Spirit for some signal success in the chase. 

On the 11th of June they came to the fork of the Nebraska, 
where it divides itself into two equal and beautiful streams. 
One of these branches rises in the west-southwest, near the 
head- waters of the Arkansas. Up the course of this branch, as 
Captain Bonneville was well aware, lay the route to the Ca- 
manchc and Kioway Indians, and to the northern Mexican set- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



33 



tiements ; of the other branch he knew nothing. Its sources 
might lie among wild and inaccessible cliffs, and tumble 
and foam down rugged defiles and over craggy precipices ; but 
its direction was in the true course, and up this stream ho de- 
termined to prosecute his route to the Rocky Mountains. Find- 
ing it impossible, from quicksands and other dangerous impedi- 
ments, to cross the river in this neighborhood, he kept up 
along the south fork for two days, merely seeking a safe fording 
place. At length he encamped, caused the bodies of the wagons 
to be dislodged from the wheels, covered with buffalo hides, 
and besmeared with a compound of tallow and ashes; thus 
forming rude boats. In these they ferried their effects across 
the stream, which was six hundred yards wide, with a swift 
and strong current. Three men were in each boat, to manage 
it; others waded across, pushing the barks before them. Thus 
all crossed in safety. A march of nine miles took them over 
high rolling prairies to the north fork ; their eyes being regaled 
with the welcome sight of herds of buffalo at a distance, some 
careering the plain, others grazing and reposing in the natural 
meadows. 

Skirting along the north fork for a day or two, excessively 
annoyed by musquitoes and buffalo gnats, they reached, in the 
evening of the 17th, a small but beautiful grove, from which 
issued the confused notes of singing birds, the first they had 
heard since crossing the boundary of Missouri. After so many 
days of weary travelling, through a naked, monotonous and 
silent country, it was delightful once more to hear the song of 
the bird, and to behold the verdure of the grove. It was a 
beautiful sunset, and a sight of the glowing rays, manthng the 
tree-tops and rustling branches, gladdened every heart. They 
pitched their camp in the grove, kindled their fires, partook 
merrily of their rude fare, and resigned themselves to the 
sweetest sleep they had enjoyed since their outset upon the 
prairies. 

The country now became rugged and broken. High bluffs 
advanced upon the river, and forced the travellers occasionally 
to leave its banks and wind their course into the interior. 
In one of the wild and solitary passes they were startled by 
the trail of four or five pedestrians, whom they supposed to be 
spies from some predatory camp of either Arickara or Crow 
Indians. This obliged them to redouble their vigilance at 
night, and to keep especial watch upon their horses. In these 
rugged and elevated regions they began to see the black- 



34 



AU VliJATUIlES OF GAPTAnSf BONAiEVILLE. 



tailed deer, a species larger than the ordinary kind, and chiefly 
found in rocky and mountainous countries. They had reached 
also a great buffalo range; Captain Bonneville ascended a 
high bluff, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding 
plains. As far as his eye could reach, the country seemed 
absolutely blackened by innumerable herds. No langaiage, he 
says, could convey an adequate idea of the vast living mass 
thus presented to his eye. He remarked that the bulls and 
cows generally congregated in separate herds. 

Opposite to the camp at this place was a singular phenom- 
enon, which is among the curiosities of the country. It is 
called the chimney. The lower part is a conical mound, rising 
out of the naked plain ; from the summit shoots up a shaft or 
column, about one hundred and twenty feet in height, from 
which it derives its name. The height of the whole, according 
to Captain Bonneville, is a hundred and seventy-five yards. 
It is composed of indurated clay, with alternate layers of red 
and white sandstone, and may be seen at the distance of up- 
ward of thirty miles. 

On the 21st they encamped amid high and beetling cliffs of 
indurated clay and sandstone, bearing the semblance of 
towers, castles, churches and fortified cities. At a distance it 
was scarcely possible to persuade one’s self that the works of 
art were not mingled with these fantastic freaks of nature. 
They have received the name of Scott’s Bluffs from a melan- 
choly circumstance. A number of years since, a party were 
descending the upper part of the river in canoes, when their 
frail barks were overturned and all their powder spoiled. 
Their rifles being thus rendered useless, they were unable to 
procure food by hunting and had to depend upon roots and 
wild fruits for subsistence. After suffering extremely from 
hunger, they arrived at Laramie’s Fork, a small tributary of 
the north branch of the Nebraska, about sixty miles above the 
cliffs just mentioned. Here one of the party, by the name of 
Scott, was taken ill ; and his companions came to a halt, until 
he should recover health and strength sufficient to proceed. 
While they were searching round in quest of edible roots they 
discovered a fresh trail of white men, who had evidently but 
recently preceded them. What was to be done? By a forced 
march they might overtake this party, and thus be able to 
reach the settlements in safety. Should they linger they 
might all perish of famine and exhaustion. Scott, however, 
was incapable of moving; they were too feeble to aid him for- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



35 



ward, and dreaded that such a clog would prevent thoir com- 
ing up with the advance party. They determined, therefore, 
to abandon him to his fate. Accordingly, under pretence of 
seeking food, and such simples as might be efficacious in his 
malady, they deserted him and hastened forward upon the 
trail. They succeeded in overtaking the party of which they 
were in quest, but concealed their faithless desertion of Scott ; 
alleging that he had died of disease. 

On the ensuing summer, these very individuals visiting 
these parts in company with others, came suddenly upon the 
bleached bones and grinning skull of a human skeleton, which, 
by certain signs they recognized for the remains of Scott. 
This was sixty long miles from the place where they had 
abandoned him; and it appeared that the wretched man had 
crawled that immense distance before death put an end to his 
miseries. The wild and picturesque bluffs in the neighborhood 
of his lonely grave have ever since borne his name. 

Amid this wild and striking scenery. Captain Bonneville, 
for the first time, beheld flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, an 
animal which frequents these cliffs in great numbers. They 
accord with the nature of such scenery, and add much to its 
romantic effect ; bounding like goats from crag to crag, often 
trooping along the lofty shelves of the mountains, under the 
guidance of some venerable patriarch, with horns twisted 
lower than his muzzle, and sometimes peering over the edge of 
a precipice, so high that they appear scarce bigger than crows ; 
indeed, it seems a pleasure to them to seek the most rugged 
and frightful situations, doubtless from a feeling of security. 

This animal is commonly called the mountain sheep, and is 
often confounded with another animal, the ‘‘woolly sheep,” 
found more to the northward, about the country of the Flat- 
heads. The latter likewise inhabits cliffs in summer, but 
descends into the valleys in the winter. It has white wool, 
like a sheep, mingled with a thin growth of long hair ; but it 
has short legs, a deep beUy, and a beard like a goat. Its horns 
are about five inches long, slightly curved backward, black as 
jet, and beautifully polished. Its hoofs are of the same color. 
This animal is by no means so active as the bighorn, it does 
not bound much, but sits a good deal upon its haunches. It is 
not so plentiful either ; rarely more than two or three are seen 
at a time. Its wool alone gives a resemblance to the sheep ; it 
is more properly of the goat genus. The flesh is said to have a 
musty flavor; some have thought the fleece might be valuable, 



36 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

as it is said to be as fine as that of the goat of Cashmere^ but it 
is not to be procured in sufficient quantities. 

The ahsahta, argali, or bighorn, on the contrary, has short 
hair like a deer^ and resembles it in shape, but has the head 
and horns of a sheep, and its flesh is said to be delicious 
mutton. Tbo Indians consider it more sweet and delicate 
than any vther kind of venison. It abounds in the Rocky 
Mountain^', from the fiftieth degree of north latitude quite 
down t-a California; generally in the highest regions capable of 
vege^^tion; sometimes it ventures into the valleys, but on the 
least- alarm, regains its favorite cliifs* and precipices, where it 
perilous, if not impossible for the hunter to follow.* 



CHAPTER IV. 

an alarm— crow INDIANS— their APPEARANCE —MODE OF AP- 
PROACH— THEIR VENGEFUL ERRAND— THEIR CURIOSITY— HOS- 
TILITY BETWEEN THE CROWS AND BLACKFEET— LOVING CONDUCT 
OF THE CROWS— LARAMIE’S FORK— FIRST NAVIGATION OF THE 
NEBRASKA — GREAT ELEVATION OF THE COUNTRY— RARITY OF 
THE ATMOSPHERE— ITS EFFECT ON THE WOODWORK OF WAGONS 
— BLACK HILLS— THEIR WILD AND BROKEN SCENERY — INDIAN 
DOGS — CROW TROPHIES — STERLE AND DREARY COUNTRY — BANKS 
OF THE SWEET WATER-BUFFALO HUNTING — ADVENTURE OF 
TOM CAIN, THE IRISH COOK. 

When on the march. Captain Bonneville always sent some 
of his best hunters in the advance to reconnoitre the country, 
as well as to look out for game. On the 24th of May, as the 
caravan was slowly journeying up the banks of the Nebraska, 
the hunters came galloping back, waving their caps, and giving 
the alarm cry, Indians ! Indians ! 

The captain immediately ordered a halt: the hunters now 
came up and announced that a large war-party of Crow In- 
dians were just above, on the river. The captain knew the 
character of these savages; one of the most roving, warlike. 



* Dimensions of a male of this species; from the nose to the base of the tail, five 
feet; length of the tail, four inches; girth of the body, four feet; height, three feet 
eight inches; the horn, three feet six inches long; one foot three inches in circuur 
f^rence at base. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



37 



crafty, and predatory tribes of the mountains ; horse-stealers 
of the first order, and easily provoked to acts of sanguinary 
violence. Orders were accordingly given to prepare for action, 
and every one promptly took the post that had been assigned 
him, in the general order of the march, in all cases of warlike 
emergency. 

Everything being put in battle array, the captain took the 
lead of his little band, and moved on slowly and warily. In 
a little while he beheld the Crow warriors emerging from 
among the bluffs. There were about sixty of them ; fine mar- 
tial-looking fellows, painted and arrayed for war, and mounted 
on horses decked out with all kinds of wild trappings. They 
came prancing along in gallant style, with many wild and 
dexterous evolutions, for none can surpass them in horseman- 
ship ; and their bright colors, and fiaunting and fantastic em- 
bellishments, glaring and sparkling in the morning sunshine, 
gave them really a striking appearance. 

Their mode of approach, to one not acquainted with the tac- 
tics and ceremonies of this rude chivalry of the wilderness, 
had an air of direct hostility. They came galloping forward 
in a body, as if about to make a furious charge, but, when 
close at hand, opened to the right and left, and wheeled in wide 
circles round the travellers, whooping and yelling like maniacs. 

This done, their mock fury sank into a calm, and the chief, 
approaching the captain, who had remained warily drawn up, 
though informed of the pacific nature of the manoeuvre, ex- 
tended to him the hand of friendship. The pipe of peace was 
smoked, and now all was good fellowship. 

The Crows were in pursuit of a band of Cheyennes, who had 
attacked their village in the night and killed one of their peO“ 
pie. Hiey had already been five and twenty days on the track 
of the marauders, and were determined not to return home 
until they had sated their revenge. 

A few days previously, some of their scouts, who were rang- 
ing the country at a distance from the main body, had discov- 
ered the party of Captain Bonneville. They had dogged it for 
a time in secret, astonished at the long train of wagons and 
oxen, and especially struck with the sight of a cow and calf, 
quietly following the caravan ; supposing them to be some kind 
of tame buffalo. Having satisfied their curiosity, they car- 
ried back to their chief intelligence of all that they had seen. 
He had, in consequence, diverged from his pursuit of ven- 
geance, to behold the wonders described to him. ‘^Now that 



38 



AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



we have met you,” said he to Captain Bonneville, and have 
seen these marvels with our own eyes, our hearts are glad.” 
In fact, nothing could exceed the curiosity evinced by these 
people as to the objects before them. Wagons had never 
been seen by them before, and they examined them with 
the grea^test minuteness; but the calf was the peculiar object 
of their admiration. They watched it with intense interest as 
it hcked the hands accustomed to feed it, and were struck with 
the mild expression of its countenance, and its perfect docility. 

After much sage consultation, they at length determined that 
it must be the ‘‘ great medicine” of the white party ; an appella- 
tion given by the Indians to anything of supernatural and 
mysterious power, that is guarded as a talisman. They were 
completely thrown out in their conjecture, however, by an offer 
of the white men to exchange the calf for a horse ; their esti- 
mation of the great medicine sank in an instant, and they de- 
clined the bargain. 

At the request of the Crow chieftain the two parties en- 
camped together, and passed the residue of the day in company. 
The captain was well pleased with every opportunity to gain a 
knowledge of the ^‘unsophisticated sons of nature,” who had 
so long been objects of his poetic speculations ; and indeed this 
wild, horse-stealing tribe is one of the most notorious of the 
mountains. The chief, of course, had his scalps to show and his 
battles to recount. The Blackfoot is the hereditary enemy of 
the Crow, toward whom hostility is like a cherished princi- 
ple of religion ; for every tribe, besides its casual antagonists, 
has some enduring foe with whom there can be no permanent 
reconciliation. The Crows and Blackfeet, upon the whole, are 
enemies worthy of each other, being rogues and ruffians of the 
first water. As their predatory excursions extend over the 
same regions, they often come in contact with each other, and 
these casual conflicts serve to keep their wits awake and their 
passions alive. 

The present party of Crows, however, evinced nothing of the 
invidious character for which they are renowned. During the 
day and night that they were encamped in company with the 
travellers, their conduct was friendly in the extreme. They 
were, in fact, quite irksome in their attentions, and had a caress- 
ing manner at times quite importunate. It was not until after 
separation on the following morning, that the captain and his 
men ascertained the secret of all this loving-kindness. In the 
course of their fraternal caresses, the Crows had contrived to 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



30 



empty the pockets of their white brothers ; to abstract the ver;y 
buttons from their coats, and, above all, to make free with 
their hunting knives. 

By equal altitudes of the sun, taken at this last encampment, 
Captain Bonneville ascertained his latitude to be 41° 47' north. 
The thermometer, at six o’clock in the morning, stood at fifty- 
nine degrees; at two o’clock, p.m., at ninety-two degrees; and 
at six o’clock in the evening, at seventy degrees. 

The Black Hills, or Mountains, now began to be seen at a 
distance, printing the horizon with their rugged and broken 
outhnes ; and threatening to oppose a difficult barrier in the 
way of the travellers. 

On the 26th of May, the travellers encamped at Laramie’s 
Fork, a clear and beautiful stream, rising in the west-south- 
west, maintaining an average width of twenty yards, and 
winding through broad meadows abounding in currants and 
gooseberries, and adorned with groves and clumps of trees. 

By an observation of Jupiter’s satellites, with a Dolland 
reflecting telescope, Captain Bonneville ascertained the longi- 
tude to be 102° 57' west of Greenwich. 

We will here step ahead of our narrative to observe, that 
about three years after the time of which we are treating, Mr. 
Eobert Campbell, formerly of the Eocky Mountain Fur Com- 
pany, descended the Platte from this fork, in skin canoes, 
thus proving, what* had always been discredited, that the river 
was navigable. About the same time, he built a fort or trad- 
ing post at Laramie’s Fork, which he named Fort William, 
after his friend and partner, Mr. William Sublette. Since 
that time, the Platte has become a highway for the fur 
traders. 

For some days past. Captain Bonneville had been made 
sensible of the great elevation of country into which he was 
gradually ascending, by the effect of the dryness and rare- 
faction of the atmosphere upon his wagons. The woodwork 
shrunk ; the paint boxes of the wheels were continually work- 
ing out, and it was necessary to support the spokes by stout 
props to prevent their falling asunder. The travellers were 
now entering one of those great steppes of the Far West, 
where the prevalent aridity of the atmosphere renders the 
country unfit for cultivation. In these regions there is a 
fresh sweet growth of grass in the spring, but it is scanty and 
short, and parches up in the course of the summer, so that 
there is none for the hunters to set fire to in the autumn. It 



40 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

is a common observation that ‘‘ above the forks of the Platte 
the grass does not burn.” All attempts at agriculture and 
gardening in the neighborhood of Fort William have been 
attended with very httle success. The grain and vegetables 
raised there have been scanty in quantity and poor in quality. 
The great elevation of these plains, and the dryness of the 
atmosphere, will tend to retain these immense regions in a 
state of pristine wildness. 

In the course of a day or two more, the travellers entered 
that wild and broken tract of the Crow country called the 
Black Hills, and here their journey became toilsome in the 
extreme. Rugged steeps and deep ravines incessantly ob- 
structed their progress, so that a great part of the day was 
spent in the painfid toil of digging through banks, filling up 
ravines, forcing the wagons up the most forbidding ascents, or 
swinging them with ropes down the face of dangerous preci- 
pices. The shoes of their horses were worn out, and their feet 
injured by the rugged and stony roads. The travellers were 
annoyed also by frequent but brief storms, which would come 
hurrying over the hills, or through the mountain defiles, rage 
with great fury for a short time, and then pass off, leaving 
everything calm and serene again. 

For several nights the camp had been infested by vagabond 
Indian dogs, prowling about in quest of food. They were 
about the size of a large pointer ; with ears short and erect, 
and a long bushy tail — altogether, they bore a striking resem- 
blance to a wolf. These skulking visitors would keep about 
the purlieus of the camp until daylight ; when, on the first stir 
of life among the sleepers, they would scamper off until they 
reached some rising ground, v/here they would take their 
seats, and keep a shai*p and hungry watch upon every move- 
ment. The moment the travellers were fairly on the march, 
and the camp was abandoned, these starveling hangers-on 
would hasten to the deserted fires to seize upon the half -picked 
bones, the offal and garbage that lay about ; and, having made 
a hasty meal, with many a snap and snarl and growl, would 
foUow leisurely on the trail of the caravan. Many attempts 
were made to coax or catch them, but in vain. Their quick 
and suspicious eyes caught the slightest sinister movement, and 
they turned and scampered off. At length one was taken. 
He was terribly alarmed, and crouched and trembled as if 
expecting instant death. Soothed, however, by caresses, he 
began after a time to gather confidence and wag hi^ tail, and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



41 



at length was brought to follow close at the heels of his 
captors, still, however, darting around furtive and suspicious 
glances, and evincing a disposition to scamper off upon the 
least alarm. 

On the first of July the band of Crow warriors again crossed 
their path. They came in vaunting and vainglorious style; 
displaying five Cheyenne scalps, the trophies of their ven- 
geance. They were now bound homeward, to appease the 
manes of their comrade by these proofs that his death had 
been revenged, and intended to have scalp dances and other 
triumphant rejoicings. Captain Bonneville and his men, how- 
ever, were by no means disposed to renew their confiding 
intimacy with these crafty savages, and above all, took care 
to avoid their pilfering caresses. They remarked one pre- 
caution of the Crows with respect to their horses ; to protect 
their hoofs from the sharp and jagged rocks among which 
they had to pass, they had covered them with shoes of buffalo 
hide. 

The route of the travellers lay generally along the course of 
the Nebraska or Platte, but occasionally, where steep prom- 
ontories advanced to the margin of the stream, they were 
obliged to make inland circuits. One of these took them 
through a bold and stern country, bordered by a range of low 
mountains, running east and west. Everything around bore 
traces of some fearful convulsion of nature in times long past. 
Hitherto the various strata of rock had exhibited a gentle 
elevation toward the southwest, but here everything appeared 
to have been subverted, and thrown out of place. In many 
places there were heavy beds of white sandstone resting upon 
red. Immense strata of rocks jutted up into crags and cliffs ; 
and sometimes formed perpendicular walls and overhanging 
precipices. An air of sterility prevailed over these savage 
wastes. The valleys were destitute of herbage, and scantily 
clothed with a stunted species of wormwood, generally known 
among traders and trappers by the name of sage. From an 
elevated point of their march through this region, the travel- 
lers caught a beautiful view of the Powder Eock Mountains 
away to the north, stretching along the very verge of the 
horizon, and seeming, from the snow with which they were 
mantled, to be a chain of small white clouds connecting sky 
and earth. 

Though the thermometer at mid-day ranged from eighty to 
ninety, and even sometimes rose to ninety-three degrees, yet 



42 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



occasional spots of snow were to be seen on the tops of the 
low mountains, among which the travellers were journeying; 
proofs of the great elevation of the whole region. 

The Nebraska, in its passage through the Black Hills, is 
confined to a much narrower channel than that through which 
it flows in the plains below ; but it is deeper and clearer, and 
rushes with a stronger current. The scenery, also, is more 
varied and beautiful. Sometimes it glides rapidly but smoothly 
through a picturesque valley, between wooded banks; then, 
forcing its way into the bosom of rugged mountains, it rushes 
impetuously through narrow defiles, roaring and foaming down 
rocks and rapids, until it is again soothed to rest in some peace- 
ful valley. 

On the 12th of July Captain Bonneville abandoned the main 
stream of the Nebraska, which was continually shouldered by 
rugged promontories, and making a bend to the southwest, for 
a couple of days, part of the time over plains of loose sand, en- 
camped on the 14th on the banks of the Sweet Water, a stream 
about twenty yards in breadth, and four or five feet deep, 
flowing between low banks over a sandy soil, and forming one 
of the forks or upper branches of the Nebraska. Up this 
stream they now shaped their course for several successive 
days, tending generally to the west. The soil was light and 
sandy ; the country much diversified. Frequently the plains 
were studded with isolated blocks of rock, sometimes in the 
shape of a half globe, and from three to four hundred feet high. 
These singular masses had occasionally a very imposing, and 
even sublime appearance, rising from the midst of a savage and 
lonely landscape. 

As the travellers continued to advance, they became more 
and more sensible of the elevation of the country. The hills 
around were more generally capped with snow. The men 
complained of cramps and colics, sore lips and mouths, and vio* 
lent headaches. The wood- work of the wagons also shrank so 
much that it was with difficulty the wheels were kept from 
falling to pieces. The country bordering upon the river was 
frequently gashed with deep ravines, or traversed by high 
bluffs, to avoid which the travellers were obliged to make wide 
circuits through the plains. In the course of these, they came 
upon immense herds of buffalo, which kept scouring off in the 
van, like a retreating army. 

Among the motley retainers of the camp was Tom Cain, a 
raw Irishman, who officiated as cook, whose various blunders 



ABYEKTUnES OF CAPTATN BONNEVILLE, 



43 



and expedient.^ in his novel situation, and in the wild scenes 
and wild kind of life into which he had suddenly been thro^vii, 
licul made him a kind of butt or droll of the camp. Tom, how- 
ever, began to discover an ambition superior to his station; 
and the conversation of the hunters, and their stories of their 
exploits, inspired him with a desire to elevate himself to the 
dignity of their order. The buffalo in such immense droves 
presented a tempting opportunity for making his first essay. 
He rode, in the line of march, all prepared for action: his 
powder flask and shot-pouch knowingly slimg at the pommel 
of his saddle, to be at hand ; his rifle balanced on his shoulder. 
While in this plight a troop of buffalo came trotting by in great 
alarm. In an instant, Tom sprang from his horse and gave 
chase on foot. ^ Finding they were leaving hhn behind, he 
levelled his rifle and pulled trigger. His shot produced no 
other effect than to increase the speed of the buffalo, and to 
frighten his own horse, who took to his heels, and scampered 
off with all the ammunition. Tom scampered after him, hal- 
looing with might and main, and the wild horse and wild Irish- 
man soon disappeared among the ravines of the prairie. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, who w~as at the head of the line, and had seen 
the transaction at a distance, detached a party in pursuit of 
Tom. After a long interval they returned, leading the fright- 
ened horse; but though they had scoured the country, and 
looked out and shouted from every height, they had seen 
nothing of his rider. 

As Capto^in Bonneville knew Tom’s utter awkwardness and 
inexperience, and the dangers of a bewildered Irishman in the 
midst of a prairie, he halted and encamped at an early hour, 
that there might be a regular hunt for him in the morning. 

At early dawn on the following day scouts were sent off in 
every direction, while the main body, after breakfast, pro- 
ceeded slowly on its course. It was not until the middle of the 
afternoon that the hunters returned, with honest Tom mounted 
behind one of them. They had found him in a complete state 
of perplexity and amazement. His appearance caused shouts 
of merriment in the camp; but Tom for once could not join 
in the mirth raised at his expense ; he was completely chap^ 
fallen, and apparently cured of hunting mania i he rest 
of his life. 



44 



ADVENTURES OF CATTAiN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER V. 

MiGNIFICENT SCENERY— WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS— TREASURY OF 
WATERS— A STRAY HORSE— AN INDIAN TRAIL— TROUT STREAMS 
— THE GREAT GREEN RIVER VALLEY — AN ALARM — A BAND OF 
TRAPPERS— PONTENELLE, HIS INFORMATION— SUFFERINGS OF 
THIRST — ENCAMPMENT ON THE SEEDS-KE-DEE— STRATEGY OP 
RIVAL TRADERS — FORTIFICATION OP THE CAMP — THE BLACK' 
FEET- BANDITTI OP THE MOUNTAINS— THEIR CHARACTER AND 
HABITS. 

It was on the 20th of July that Captain Bonneville first came 
in sight of the grand region of his hopes and anticipations, the 
Pocky Mountains. He had been making a bend to the south, 
to avoid some obstacles along the river, and had attained a 
high, rocky ridge, when a magnificent prospect burst upon his 
sight. To the v/est rose the Wind River Mountains, with their 
bleached and snowy summits towering into the clouds. These 
stretched far to the north-northwest, until they melted away 
into what appeared to be faint clouds, but which the experi- 
enced eyes of the veteran hunters of the party recognized for 
the rugged mountains of the Yellowstone ; at the feet of which 
extended the wild Crow country : a perilous, though profitable 
region for the trapper. 

To the southwest the eye ranged over an immense extent of 
v/ilderness, with what appeared to be a snowy vapor resting 
upon its horizon. This, however, was pointed out as another 
branch of the great Chippewyan, or Rocky chain ; being the 
Eutaw Mountains, at whose basis the wandering tribe of hunt- 
ers of the same name pitch their tents. 

We can imagine the enthusiasm of the worthy captain, when 
he beheld the vast and mountainous scene of his adventurous 
enterprise thus suddenly unveiled before him. We can imagine 
with what feelings of awe and admiration he must have con- 
templated the Wind River Sierra, or bed of mountains; tliat 
great fountain-head from whose springs, and lakes, and melted 
snows some of those mighty rivers take their rise, which wan 
der over hundreds of miles of varied country and clime, and 
find their way to the opposite waves of the Atlantic and the 
Pacific. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



45 



The Wind River Mountains are, in fact, among the most 
remarkable of the whole Rocky chain ; and would appear to be 
among the loftiest. They form, as it were, a great bed of 
mountains, about eighty miles in length, and from twenty to 
thirty in breadth; with rugged peaks, covered with eternal 
snows, and deep, narrow valleys, full of springs, and brooks, 
and rock-bound lakes. From this great treasury of waters 
issue forth limpid streams which, augmenting as they descend, 
become main tributaries of the Missouri on the one side, and 
the Columbia on the other; and give rise to the Seeds-ke-dee 
Agie, or Green River, the great Colorado of the West, that 
empties its current into the Gulf of California. 

The Wind River Mountains are notorious in hunters’ and 
trappers’ stories: their rugged defiles, and the rough tracts 
about their neighborhood, having been lurking places for the 
predatory hordes of the mountains, and scenes of rough en- 
counter with Crows and Blackfeet. It was to the west of 
these mountains, in the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee Agie, or 
Green River, that Captain Bonneville intended to make a halt, 
for the purpose of giving repose to his people and his horses, 
after their weary journeying; and of collecting information 
as to his future course. This Green River Yalley, and its im- 
mediate neighborhood, as we have already observed, formed 
the main point of rendezvous, for the present year, of the rival 
fur companies, and the motley populace, civilized and savage, 
connected with them. Several days of rugged travel, how- 
ever, yet remained for the captain and his men before they 
should encamp in this desired resting-place. 

On the 21st of July, as they were pursuing their course 
through one of the meadows of the Sweet Water, they beheld 
a horse grazing at a little distance. He showed no alarm at 
their approach, but suffered himself quietly to be taken, evinc- 
ing a perfect state of tameness. The scouts of the party were 
instantly on the look-out for the owners of this animal, lest 
some dangerous band of savages might be lurking in the vicin- 
ity. After a narrow search, they discovered the trail of an 
Indian party, which had evidently passed through that neigh- 
borhood but recently. The horse was accordingly taken pos- 
session of, as an estray ; but a more vigilant watch than usual 
was kept round the camp at nights, lest his former owners 
should be upon the prowl. 

The travellers had now attained so high an elevation, that 
on the 23d of JuJy, at daybreak, there was considerable ice in 



46 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



the water-buckets, and the thermometer stood at twenty-two 
degrees. The rarity of the atmosphere continued to affect the 
wood-work of the wagons, and the wheels were incessantly 
falling to pieces. A remedy was at length devised. The tire 
of each wheel was taken off ; a band of wood was nailed round 
the exterior of the felloes, the tire was then made red hot, re- 
placed round the wheel, and suddenly cooled with water. By 
this means, the whole was bound together with great compact- 
ness. 

The extreme elevation of these great steppes, which range 
along the feet of the Kocky Mountains, takes away from the 
seeming height of their peaks, which yield to few in the 
known world in point of altitude above the level of the sea. 

On the 24th, the travellers took final leave of the Sweet 
Water, and keeping westwardly, over a low and very rocky 
ridge, one of the most southern spurs of the Wind River Mourn 
tains, they encamped, after a march of seven hours and a half, 
on the banks of a small clear stream, running to the south, in 
wliich they caught a number of fine trout. 

The sight of these fish was hailed with pleasure, as a sign 
that they had reached the waters which flow into the Pacific ; 
for it is only on the western streams of the Rocky Mountains 
that trout are to be taken. The stream on which they had 
thus encamped proved, in effect, to be tributary to the Seeds- 
ke-dee Agie, or Green River, into which it flowed, at some dis- 
tance to the south. 

Captain Bonneville now considered himself as having fairly 
passed the crest of the Rocky Mountains ; and felt some degree of 
exultation in being the first individual that had crossed, north 
of the settled provinces of Mexico, from the waters of the At- 
- lantic to those of the Pacific, with wagons. Mr. William Sub- 
lette, the enterprising leader of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
pany, had, two or three years previously, reached the valley of 
the Wind River, which lies on the northeast of the mountains; 
but had proceeded with them no further. 

A vast valley now spread itself before the travellers, 
bounded on one side by the Wind River Mountains, and to the 
west by a long range of high hills. This, Captain Bonneville 
was assitred by a veteran hunter in his company, was the great 
valley of the Seeds-ke-dee; and the same informant would have 
fain persuaded him that a small stream, three feet deep, which 
he came to on the 25th, was that river. The captain was con- 
vinced, however, that the stream was too insignificant to 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



47 



drain so wide a valley and the adjacent mountains: he en- 
camped, therefore, at an early hour, on its borders, that he 
might take the whole of the next day to reach the main river ; 
which he presumed to flow between him and the distant range 
of western hills. 

On the 26 th of July he commenced his march at an early 
hour, making directly across the valley, toward the hills in the 
west ; proceeding at as brisk a rate as the jaded condition of 
his horses would permit. About eleven o’clock in the morning 
a great cloud of dust was descried in the rear, advancing 
directly on the trail of the party. The alarm was given ; they 
all came to a halt, and held a council of war. Some conjec- 
tured that the band of Indians, whose trail they had discovered 
in the neighborhood of the stray horse, had been lying in wait 
for them, in some secret fastness of the mountains ; and were 
about to attack them on the open plain, where they would 
have no shelter. Preparations were immediately made for de- 
fence: and a scouting party sent off to reconnoitre. They 
soon came galloping back, making signals that all was well. 
The cloud of dust was made by a band of fifty or sixty mounted 
trappers, belonging to the American Fur Company, who soon 
came up, leading their pack-horses. They were headed by Mr. 
Fontenelle, an experienced leader, or ‘‘partisan,” as a chief of 
a party is called in the technical language of the trappers. 

Mr. Fontenelle informed Captain Bonneville that he was on 
his way from the company’s trading post on the Yellowstone to 
the yearly rendezvous, with reinforcements and supplies for 
their hunting and trading parties beyond the mountains; and 
that he expected to meet, by appointment, with a band of free 
trappers in that very neighborhood. He had fallen upon the 
trail of Captain Bonneville’s party, just after leaving the Ne-= 
braska ; and, finding that they had frightened off all the game, 
had been obliged to push on, by forced marches, to avoid 
famine; both men and horses were, therefore, much traveh 
worn; but this was no place to halt; the plain before them he 
said, was destitute of grass and water, neither of which would 
be met with short of the Green River, which was yet at a con- 
siderable distance. He hoped, he added, as his party were all 
on horseback, to reach the river, with hard travelling, by 
nightfall; but he doubted the possibility of Captain Bonne- 
ville’s arrival there with his wagons before the day following. 
Having imparted this information, he pushed forward with all 
speed. 



48 



AhVKIsTVUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



Captain Bonneville followed on as fast as circumstances 
would permit. The ground was firm and gravelly; but the 
horses were too much fatigued to move rapidly. After a long 
and harassing day’s march, without pausing for a noontide 
meal, they were compelled at nine o’clock at night to encamp 
in an open plain, destitute of water or pasturage. On the fob 
lowing morning, the horses were turned loose at the peep of 
day, to slake their thirst, if possible, from the dew collected 
on the sparse grass, here and there springing up among dry 
sand-banks. The soil of a great part of this Green River 
valley is a whitish clay, into which the rain cannot penetrate, 
but which dries and cracks with the sun. In some places it 
produces a salt weed, and grass along the margins of the 
streams ; but the wider expanses of it are desolate and barren. 
It was not until noon that Captain Bonneville reached the 
banks of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Colorado of the West; in the 
mean time, the sufferings of both men and horses had been 
excessive, and it was with almost frantic eagerness that they 
hurried to allay their burning thirst in the limpid current of 
the river. 

Fontenelle and his party had not fared much hotter; the 
chief part had managed to reach the river by nightfall, but 
were nearly knocked up by the exertion ; the horses of others 
sank under them, and they were obliged to pass the night upon 
the road. 

On the following morning, July 27, Fontenelle moved his 
camp across the river, while Captain Bonneville proceeded 
some little distance below, where there was a small but fresh 
meadow, yielding abundant pasturage. Here the poor jaded 
horses were turned out to graze, and take their rest: the 
weary journey up the mountains had worn them down in 
flesh and spirit ; but this last march across the thirsty plain 
had nearly finished them. 

The captain had here the first taste of the boasted strategy 
of the fur trade. During his brief but social encampment in 
company with Fontenelle, that experienced trapper had man- 
aged to win over a number of Delaware Indians whom the 
captain had brought with him, by offering them four hundred 
dollars each, for the ensuing autumnal hunt. The captain was 
somewhat astonished when he saw these hunters, on whose 
services he had calculated securely, suddenly pack up their 
traps, and go over to the rival camp. That he might in 
some measure, however, be even with his competitor, he dis- 



AhVENTVUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



49 



patched two scouts to look out for the band of free trappers 
who were to meet Fontenelle in this neighborhood, and to en- 
deavor to bring them to his camp. 

As it would be necessary to remain some time in this neigh- 
borhood, that both men and horses might repose, and recruit 
their strength ; and as it was a region full of danger, Captain 
Bonneville proceeded to fortify his camp with breastworks of 
logs and pickets. 

These precautions were, at that time, peculiarly necessary 
from the bands of Blackfeet Indians which were roving about 
the neighborhood. These savages are the most dangerous ban- 
ditti of the mountains, and the inveterate foe of the trappers. 
They are Ishmaelites of the first order ; ahvays with weapon 
in hand, ready for action. The young braves of the tribe, who 
are destitute of property, go to war for booty ; to gain horses, 
and acquire the means of setting up a lodge, supporting a 
family, and entitling themselves to a seat in the public coun- 
cils. The veteran warriors fight merely for the love of the 
thing, and the consequence which success gives them among 
their people. 

They are capital horsemen, and are generally well mounted 
on short, stout horses, similar to the prairie ponies to be met 
with at St. Louis. When on a v/ar party, however, they go 
on foot, to enable them to skulk through the country with 
greater secrecy ; to keep in thickets and ravines, and use more 
adroit subterfuges and stratagems. Their mode of warfare is 
entirely by ambush, surprise, and sudden assaults in the night 
time. If they succeed in causing a panic, they dash forward 
with headlong fury : if the enemy is on the alert, and shows 
no signs of fear, they become wary and deliberate in their 
movements. 

Some of them are armed in the primitive style, with bows 
and arrows; the greater part have American fusees, made 
after the fashion of those of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 
These they procure at the trading post of the American Fur 
Company, on Marias River, where they traffic their peltries 
for arms, ammunition, clothing, and trinkets. They are ex- 
tremely fond of spirituous liquors and tobacco; for which 
nuisances tney are ready to exchange, not merely their guns 
and horses, but even their wives and daughters. As they are 
a treacherous race, and have cherished a lurking hostility to 
the whites ever since one of their tribe was killed by Mr. 
Lewis, the associate of General Clarke in his exploring expedi- 



50 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



tion across the Rocky Mountains, the American Fur Company 
is ohhged constantly to keep at that post a garrison of sixty or 
seventy men. 

Under the general name of Blackfeet are comprehended sev- 
eral tribes : such as the Surcies, the Peagans, the Blood Indians, 
and the Grros Ventres of the Prairies: who roam about the 
southern branches of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, 
together with some other tribes further north. 

The bands infesting the Wind River Mountains, and the 
country adjacent, at the time of which we are treating, were 
Gros Ventres of the Prairies^ which are not to be confounded 
with Gros Ventres of the Missouri^ who keep about the loieer 
part of that river, and are friendly to the white men. 

This hostile hand keeps about the head waters of the Mis- 
souri, and numbers about nine hundred fighting men. Once 
in the course of two or three years they abandon their usual 
abodes, and make a visit to the Arapahoes of the Arkansas. 
Their route lies either through the Crow country, and the 
Black Hills, or through the lands of the Nez Perces, Flatheads, 
Bannacks, and Shoshonies. As they enjoy their favorite state 
of hostility with all these tribes, their expeditions are prone to 
be conducted in the most lawless and predatory style ; nor do 
they hesitate to extend their maraudings to any party of white 
men they meet with; following their trails; hovering about 
their camps ; waylaying and dodging the caravans of the free 
traders, and murdering the solitary trapper. The conse- 
quences are frequent and desperate fights between them and 
the ‘‘mountaineers,” in the wild defiles and fastnesses of the 
Rocky Mountains. 

The band in question was, at this time, on their way home- 
ward from one of their customary visits to the Arapahoes; 
and in the ensuing chapter we shall treat of some bloody en- 
counters between them and the trappers, which had taken 
place just before the arrival of Captain Bonneville among th& 
mountains. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



61 



CHAPTER VI. 

SUBLETTE AND HIS BAND— ROBERT CAMPBELL— MR. WYETH AND 
A BAND OF ^ ‘ DO WN-E asters”— YANKEE ENTERPRISE — FITZ“ 
PATRICK — HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE BLACKFEET— A RENDEZ- 
VOUS OF MOUNTAINEERS— THE BATTLE OF PIERRE’S HOLE — AN 
INDIAN AMBUSCADE— SUBLETTE’S RETURN. 

Leaving Captain Bonneville and his band ensconced within 
their fortified camp in the Green River valley, we shall step 
back and accompany a party of the Rocky Mountain Fur Com- 
pany in its progress, with supplies from St. Louis, to the 
annual rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole. This party consisted of 
sixty men, well mounted, and conducting a line of pack-horses. 
They were commanded by Captain William Sublette, a part- 
ner in the company, and one of the most active, intrepid, and 
renowned leaders in this half military kind of service. He 
was accompanied by his associate in business, and tried com- 
panion in danger, Mr. Robert Campbell, one of the pioneers of 
the trade beyond the mountains, who had commanded trap- 
ping parties there in times of the greatest peril. 

As these worthy compeers were on their route to the fron- 
tier, they fell in with another expedition, likewise on its way 
to the mountains. This was a party of regular ‘‘down- 
easters,” that is to say, people of New England who, with the 
all-penetrating and all-pervading spirit of their race Wbx o now 
pushing their way into a new field of enterprise with which 
they were totally unacquainted. The party had been fitted 
out and was maintained and commanded by Mr. Nathaniel J. 
Wyeth, of Boston.* This gentleman had conceived an idea 
that a profitable fishery for salmon might be established on the 
Columbia River, and connected with the fur trade. He had, 
accordingly, invested capital in goods, calculated, as he sup- 
posed, for the Indian trade, and had enlisted a numbe'r of 
eastern men in his employ, who had never been in the Far 
West, nor knew anything of^the wilderness. With these he 
was bravely steering his way across the continent, undismayed 



* In the former editions of this work we have erroneously given this enterprising 
individual the title of captain, 



52 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 



by danger, difficulty, or distance, in the same way that a New 
England coaster and his neighbors will coolly launch forth on 
a voyage to the Black Sea or a whaling cruise to the Pacific. 

With all their national aptitude at expedient and resource, 
Wyeth and his men felt themselves completely at a loss when 
they reached the frontier, and found that the wilderness re- 
:|uired experience and habitudes of which they were totally 
ieficient. Not one of the party, excepting the leader, had ever 
seen an Indian or handled a rifle ; they were without guide or 
interpreter, and totally unacquainted with ‘‘wood craft” and 
the modes of making their v/ay among savage hordes, and sub- 
sisting themselves during long marches over wild mountains 
and barren i3lains. 

In this predicament. Captain Sublette found them, in a man- 
ner becalmed, or rather run aground, at the little frontier town 
of Independence in Missouri, and kindly took them in tow. 
The two parties travelled amicably together; the frontier men 
of Sublette’s party gave their Yankee comrades some lessons 
in hunting, and some insight into the art and mystery of deal- 
ing with the Indians, and they all arrived without accident at 
the upper branches of the Nebraska or Platte Eiver. 

In the course of their march, Mr. Fitzpatrick, the partner of 
the company who was resident at that time beyond the moun- 
tains, came down from the rendezvous at Pierre’s Hole, to 
meet them and hurry them forward. He travelled in company 
with them until they reached the Sweet Water; then taking a 
couple of horses, one for the saddle and the other a.s a pack- 
horse, he started off express for Pierre’s Hole, to make arrange- 
ments against their arrival, that he might commence his 
hunting campaign before the rival company. 

Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced mountaineer, and 
knew aU the passes and defiles. As he was pursuing his lonely 
course up the Green Eiver valley, he descried several horse- 
men at a distance, and came to a halt to reconnoitre. He sup- 
posed them to be some detachment from the rendezvous, or a 
party of friendly Indians. They perceived him, and setting 
up the war-whoop, dashed forward at full speed; he saw at 
once his mistake and his peril — they were Blackfeet. Spring- 
ing upon his fleetest horse, and abandoning the other to the 
enemy, he made for the mountains and succeeded in escaping 
up one of the most dangerous defiles. Here he concealed 
himself until he thought the Indians had gone off, when he 
returned into the valley. He _was„ again pursued, lost his 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVIi/LE. 



m 



remaining horse, and only escaped by scrambling up among 
the clilfs. For several days he remained lurking among rocks 
and precipices and almost famished, having but one remain- 
ing charge in his rifle, which he kept for self-defence. 

In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, with their fellow- 
traveUer, Wyeth, had pursued their march unmolested, and 
arrived in the Green River vaUey, totally unconscious that 
there was any lurking enemy at hand. They had encamped 
one night on the banks of a small stream, which came down 
from the Wind River Mountains, when about midnight a band 
of Indians burst upon their camp, with horrible yells and 
whoops, and a discharge of guns and arrows. Happily no 
other harm was done than wounding one mule, and causing 
several horses to break loose from their pickets. The camp 
was instantly in arms ; but the Indians retreated with yells of 
exultation, carrying off several of the horses under covert of 
the night. 

This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain 
life to some of Wyeth’s band, accustomed only to the regular 
and peaceful life of New England; nor was it altogether to the 
taste of Captain Sublette’s men, who were chiefly creoles and 
townsmen from St. Louis. They continued their march the 
next morning, keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, and 
arrived without further molestation at Pierre’s Hole. 

The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on reaching the ren- 
dezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. He had not arrived, nor had 
any intelligence been received concerning him. Great uneasi- 
ness was now entertained, lest he should have fallen into the 
hands of the Blackfeet who had made the midnight attack 
upon the camp. It was a matter of general joy, therefore, 
when he made his appearance, conducted by tv/o half-breed 
Iroquois hunters. He had lurked for several days among the 
mountains until almost starved ; at length he escaped the vigi- 
lance of his enemies in the night, and was so fortunate as to 
meet the two Iroquois hunters who, being on horseback, con- 
veyed him without further difficulty to the rendezvous. He 
arrived there so emaciated that he could scarcely be recog- 
nized. 

The valley called Pierre’s Hole is about thirty miles in length 
and fifteen in width, bounded to the west and south by low 
and broken ridges, and overlooked to the east by three lofty 
mountains called the three Tetons, which domineer as land*- 
marks over a vast extent of country. 



54 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

A fine stream, fed by rivulets and mountain springs, pours 
through the valley toward the north, dividing it into nearly 
equal parts. The meadows on its borders are broad and ex~ 
tensive, covered with willow and cottonwood trees, so closely 
interlocked and matted together as to be nearly impassable. 

In this valley was congregated the motley populace connected 
with the fur trade. Here the two rival companies had their 
encampments, with their retainers of all kinds: traders, trap- 
pers, hunters, and half-breeds, assembled from all quarters, 
awaiting their yearly supplies, and their orders to start off in 
new directions. Here, also, the savage tribes connected with 
the trade, the Nez Perces or Chopunnish Indians, and Flat- 
heads, had pitched their lodges beside the streams, and with 
their squaws, awaited the distribution of goods and finery. 
There was, moreover, a band of fifteen free trappers, com- 
manded by a gaUant leader from Arkansas, named Sinclair, 
who held their encampment a little apart from the rest. Such 
was the wild and heterogeneous assemblage, amounting to 
several hundred men, civilized and savage, distributed in tents 
and lodges in the several camps. 

The arrival of Captain Sublette with supplies put the Eocky 
Mountain Fur Company in full activity. The wares and mer- 
chandise were quickly opened, and as quickly disposed of to 
trappers and Indians ; the usual excitement and revelry took 
place, after which all hands began to disperse to their several 
destinations. 

On the 17 th of July, a small brigade of fourteen trappers, led 
by Milton Sublette, brother of the captain, set out with the in- 
tention of proceeding to the southwest. They were accompa- 
nied by Sinclair and his fifteen free trappers ; Wyeth, also, and 
his New England band of beaver hunters and salmon fishers, 
now dwindled down to eleven, took this opportunity to prose- 
cute their cruise in the wilderness, accompanied with such 
experienced pilots. On the first day they proceeded about 
eight miles to the southeast, and encamped for the night, still 
In the valley of Pierre’s Hole. On the following morning, just 
as they were raising their camp, they observed a long line of 
people pouring down a defile of the mountains. They at first 
supposed them to be Fontenelle and his party, whose arrival 
had been daily expected. Wyeth, however, reconnoitred them 
with a spy-glass, and soon perceived they were Indians. They 
were divided into two parties, forming, in the whole, about 
one hundred and fifty persons, men, women ond children. 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 55 

Some were on horseback, fantastically painted and arrayed, 
with scarlet blankets fluttering in the wind. The greater part, 
however, were on foot. They had perceived the trappers 
before they were themselves discovered, and came down yell- 
ing and whooping into the plain. On nearer approach thev 
were ascertained to be Blackfeet. 

One of the trappers of Sublette’s brigade, a half-breed, 
named Antoine Godin, now mounted his horse, and rode forth 
as if to hold a conference. He was the son of an li oquois 
hunter, who had been cruelly murdered by the Eiackfeet at a 
small stream below the mountains, which still bears his name. 
In company with Antoine rode forth a Flathead Indian, whose 
once powerful tribe had been completely broken down in their 
wars with the Blackfeet. Both of them, therefore, cherished 
the most vengeful hostility against these marauders of the 
mountains. The Blackfeet came to a halt. One of the chiefs 
advanced singly and unarmed, bearing the pipe of peace. 
This overture was certainly pacific ; but Antoine and the Flat- 
head were predisposed to hostility, and pretended to consider 
it a treacherous movemeut. 

“ Is your piece charged?” said Antoine to his red companion. 

‘‘It is.” 

“ Then cock it and follow me.” 

They met the Blackfoot chief half-way, who extended his 
hand in friendship. Antoine grasped it. 

“Fire!” cried he. 

The Flathead levelled his piece, and brought the Blackfoot 
to the ground. Antoine snatched off his scarlet blanket, which 
was richly ornamented, and galloped off with it as a trophy 
to the camp, the bullets of the enemy whistling after him. 
The Indians immediately threw themselves into the edge of a 
swamp, among willows and cottonwood trees, interwoven with 
vines. Here they began to fortify themselves; the women 
digging a trench, and throwing up a breastwork of logs and 
branches, deep hid in the bosom of the wood, while the war- 
riors skirmished at the edge to keep the trappers at bay. 

The latter took their station in a ravine in front, whence 
they kept up a scattering fire. As to Wyeth, and his little 
band of “ down-easters,” they were perfectly astounded by this 
second specimen of hf e in the wilderness ; the men, being es- 
pecially unused to bush-fighting and the use of the rifle, were 
at a loss how to proceed. Wyeth, however, acted as a skilful 
commander. He got all his horses into camp and secured 



56 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

them; then, making a breastwork of his packs of goods, he 
charged his men to remain in garrison, and not to stir out of 
their fort. For himself, he mingled with the other leaders, 
determined to take his share in the conflict. 

In the meantime, an express had been sent off to the rendez 
vous for reinforcements. Captain Sublette and his associate, 
Campbell, were at their camp when the express came galloping 
across the plain, waving his cap, and giving the alarm ; ‘‘Black- 
feet! Elackfeet! a fight in the upper part of the valley!-— to 
arms! to arms I”. . 

The alarm was passed from camp to camp. It was a com- 
mon cause. Every one turned out with horse and rifle. The 
Nez Perces and Flatheads joined. As fast as horseman could 
arm and mount he galloped off ; the valley was soon ahve v/ith 
white men and red men scouring at full speed. 

Sublette ordered his men to keep to the camp, being recruits 
from St. Louis, and unused to Indian warfare. He and his 
friend Campbell prepared for action. Throwing off their 
coats, rolling up their sleeves, and arming themselves with 
pistols and rifles, they mounted their horses and dashed for- 
ward among the first. As they rode along, they made their 
wills in soldier-like style ; each stating how his effects should 
be disposed of in case of his death, and appointing the other 
his executor. 

The Blackfeet warriors had supposed the brigade of Milton . 
Sublette all the foes they had to deal with, and were aston- 
ished to behold the whole valley suddenly swarming with 
horsemen, galloping to the field of action. They withdrew 
into their fort, which was completely hid from sight in the 
dark and tangled wood. Most of their women and children 
had retreated to the mountains. The trappers now sallied 
forth and approached the swamp, firing into the thickets at 
random ; the Blackfeet had a better sight at their adversaries, 
who were in the open field, and a half-breed was wounded in 
the shoulder. 

When Captain Sublette arrived, he urged to penetrate the 
swamp and storm the fort, but all hung back in awe of the 
dismal horrors of the place, and the danger of attacking such 
desperadoes in their savage den. The very Indian allies, 
though accustomed to bush-fighting, regarded it as almost 
impenetrable, and full of frightful danger. Sublette was not 
to be turned from his purpose, but offered to lead the way into 
the swHmp^ Campbell stepped forward to accompany him. 



ADVENTUlibJS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



57 



Before entering the perilous v>^ood, Sublette took his brothers 
aside, and told them that in case he fell, Campbell, who knew 
his will, was to be his executor. This done, he grasped his rifle 
and pushed into the thickets, followed by Campbell. Sinclair, 
the partisan from Arkansas, was at the edge of the wood with 
his brother and a few of his men. Excited by the gallant ex- 
ample of the two friends, he pressed forward to share their 
dangers. 

The swamp was produced by the labors of the beaver, which, 
by damming up a stream, had inundated a portion of the val- 
ley. The place was all overgrown with woods and thickets, 
so closely matted and entangled that it was impossible to see 
ten paces ahead, and the three associates in peril had to crawl 
along one after another, making their way by putting the 
branches and vines aside ; but doing it with caution, lest they 
should attract the eye of some lurking marksman. They took 
the lead by turns, each advancing about twenty yards at a 
time, and now and then hallooing to their men to follow. 
Some of the latter gradually entered the swamp, and followed 
a little distance in their rear. 

They had now reached a more open part of the wood, and 
had glimpses of the rude fortress from between the trees. It 
was a mere breastwork, as we have said, of logs and branches, 
with blankets, buffalo robes, and the leathern covers of lodges 
extended round the top as a screen. The movements of the 
leaders, as they groped their way, had been descried by the 
sharp-sighted enemy. As Sinclair, who was in the advance, 
was putting some branches aside, he was shot through the 
body. He fell on the spot. “Take me to my brother, ” said 
he to Campbell. The latter gave him in charge to some of the 
men, who conveyed him out of the swamp. 

Sublette now took the advance. As he was reconnoitring 
the fort, he perceived an Indian peeping through an aperture. 
In an instant his rifle was levelled and discharged, and the ball 
struck the savage in the eye. While he was reloading, he 
called to Campbell, and pointed out to him the hole; “ Watch 
that place,” said he, “ and you will soon have a fair chance for 
a shot.” Scarce had he uttered the words, when a ball struck 
him in the shoulder, and almost wheeled him round. His first 
thought was to take hold of his arm with his other hand, and 
move it up and down. He ascertained, to his satisfaction, 
that the bone was not broken. The next moment he was so 
faint that he could not stand. Campbell took him in his arms 



58 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and carried him out of the thicket. The same shot that struck 
Sublette wounded another man in the head. 

A brisk fire was now opened by the mountaineers from the 
wood, answered occasionally from the fort. Unluckily, the 
trappers and their allies, in searching for the fort, had got 
scattered so that Wyeth and a number of Nez Perces ap- 
proached the fort on the northwest side, wliile others did the 
same on the opposite quarter. A cross-fire thus took place 
which occasionally did mischief to friends as well as foes. An 
Indian was shot down close to Wyeth, by a ball which, he was 
convinced, had been sped from the rifle of a trapper on the 
other side of the fort. 

The number of whites and their Indian allies had by this 
time so much increased by arrivals from the rendezvous, that 
the Blackfeet were completely overmatched. They kept dog- 
gedly in their fort, however, making no offer of surrender. 
An occasional firing into the breastwork was kept up during 
the day. Now and then one of the Indian allies, in bravado, 
would rush up to the fort, fire over the ramparts, tear off a 
buffalo robe or a scarlet blanket, and return with it in triumph 
to his comrades. Most of the savage garrison that fell, how- 
ever, were killed in the first part of the attack. 

At one time it was resolved to set fire to the fort ; and the 
squaws belonging to the allies were employed to collect com- 
bustibles. This, however, was abandoned; the Nez Perces 
being unwilling to destroy the robes and blankets, and other 
spoils of the enemy, which they felt sure would fall into their 
hands. 

The Indians, when fighting, are prone to taunt and revile 
each other. During one of the pauses of the battle the voice 
of the Blackfeet chief was heard. 

So long,” said he, “as we had powder and ball, we fought 
you in the open field: when those were spent, we retreated 
here to die with our women and children. You may burn us 
in our fort ; but, stay by our ashes, and you who are so hungry 
for fighting will soon have enough. There are four hundred 
lodges of our brethren at hand. They will soon be here — their 
arms are strong — their hearts are big — they will avenge ns !” 

This speech was translated two or three times by Nez Perce 
and creole interpreters. By the time it was rendered into 
English, the chief was made to say that four hundred lodges 
of his tribe were attacking the encampment at the other end 
of the valley. Every one now was for hurrying to the de* 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



m 



fence of the rendezvous. A party was left to keep watch upon 
the fort ; the rest galloped off to the camp. As night came on, 
the trappers drew out of the swamp, and remained about the 
skirts of the wood. By morning, their companions returned 
from the rendezvous, with the report that all was safe. As 
the day opened, they ventured within the swamp and ap- 
proached the fort. All was silent. They advanced up to it 
without opposition. They entered : it had been abandoned in 
the night, and the Blackfeet had effected their retreat, carry- 
ing off their wounded on litters made of branches, leaving 
bloody traces on the herbage. The bodies of ten Indians were 
found within the fort ; among them the one shot in the eye by 
Sublette. The Blackfeet afterward reported that they had lost 
twenty-six warriors in this battle. Thirty -two horses were 
likewise found killed; among them were some of those re- 
cently carried off from Sublette’s party, in the night; vdiich 
showed that these were the very savages that had attacked 
him. They proved to be an advance party of the main body 
of Blackfeet, Avhich had been upon the trail of Sublette’s party. 
Five white men and one half-breed w^ero killed, and several 
wounded. Seven of the Nez Perces were also killed, and six 
w^ounded. They had an old chief who v/as reputed as invul- 
nerable. In the course of the action he was hit by a spent 
ball, and threw up blood; but his skin was unbroken. His 
people were now fully convinced that he was proof against 
powder and ball. 

A striking circumstance is related as having occurred the 
morning after the battle. As soaie of the trappers and their 
Indian allies were approaching the fort, through the woods, 
they beheld an Indian woman, of noble form and features, 
leaning against a tree. Their surprise at her lingering here 
alone, to fall into the hands of her enemies, was dispelled, 
when they saw the corpse of a warrior at her feet. Either 
she was so lost in grief as not to perceive their approach ; or a 
proud spirit kept her silent and motionless. The Indians set 
up a yell, on discovering her, and before the trappers could in- 
terfere, her mangled body fell upon the corpse which she had 
refused to abandon. We have heard this anecdote discredited 
by one of the leaders who had been in the battle : but the fact 
may have taken place without his seeing it, and been con- 
cealed from him. It is an instance of female devotion, even to 
the death, which we are well disposed to believe and to record. 

After the battle, the brigade of Miltojx Sublette, together 



60 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



with the free trappers, and Wyeth’s New England band, re^ 
mained some days at the rendezvous, to see if the main body 
of Blackfeet intended to make an attack ; nothing of the kind 
occurring, they once more put themselves in motion, and pro- 
ceeded on their route toward the southwest. 

Captain Sublette having distributed his supplies, had in- 
tended to set off on his return to St. Louis, taking with him 
the peltries collected from the trappers and Indians. His 
wound, however, obliged him to postpone his departure. Sev- 
eral who were to have accompanied him became impatient 
of this delay. Among these was a young Bostonian, Mr. 
Joseph More, one of the followers of Mr. Wyeth, who had seen 
enough of mountain hfe and savage warfare, and was eager to 
return to the abodes of civilization. He and six others, among 
whom were a Mr. Foy, of Mississippi, Mr. Alfred K. Stephens, 
of St. Louis, and two grandsons *of the celebrated Daniel 
Boone, set out together, in advance of Sublette’s party, think- 
ing they would make their own way through the mountains. 

It was just five days after the battle of the swamp, that 
these seven companions were making their way through Jack- 
son’s Hole, a valley not far from the three Tetons^ when, as 
they were descending a hill, a party of Blackfeet that lay in 
ambush started up with terrific yells. The horse of the young 
Bostonian, who was in front, wheeled round with affright, and 
threw his unskilful rider. The young man scrambled up the 
side of the hill, but, unaccustomed to such wild scenes, lost 
his presence of mind, and stood, as if paralyzed, on the edge 
of a bank, until the Blackfeet came up and slew him on the 
spot. His comrades had fled on the first alarm; but two of 
them, Foy and Stephens, seeing his danger paused when they 
got half way up the hiU, turned back, dismounted, and has- 
tened to his assistance. Foy was instantly killed. Stephens 
was severely wounded, but escaped to die five days afterward. 
The survivors returned to the camp of Captain Sublette, bring- 
ing tidings of this new disaster. That hardy leader, as soon as 
he could bear the journey, set out on his return to St. Louis, 
accompanied by Campbell. As they had a number of pack- 
horses richly laden with peltries to convoy, they chose a dif- 
ferent route through the mountains, out of the way, as they 
hoped, of the lurking bands of Blackfeet. They succeeded in 
making the frontier in safety. We remember to have seen 
them with their band, about two or three months afterward, 
passing through a skirt of woodland in the upper po,rt of MiS' 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



61 



souri. Their long cavalcade stretched in single file for nearly 
half a mile. Sublette still wore his arm in a sling. The moun- 
taineers in their rude hunting dresses, armed with rifles and 
roughly mounted, and leading their pack-horses down a hill of 
the forest, looked like banditti returning with plunder. On 
the top of some of the packs were perched several half-breed 
children, perfect little imps, with wild black eyes glaring from 
among elf locks. These, I was told, were children of the 
trappers; pledges of love from their squaw spouses in the 
wilderness. 



CHAPTER VII. 

RETREAT OP THE BLACKFEET— FONTENELLE’S CAMP IN DANGER 
— CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE AND THE BLACKFEET — FREE TRAPPERS 
— THEIR CHARACTER, HABITS, DRESS, EQUIPMENTS, HORSES— 
GAME FELLOWS OP THE MOUNTAINS — THEIR VISIT TO THE 
CAMP — GOOD FELLOWSHIP AND GOOD CHEER — A CAROUSE — A 
SWAGGER, A BRAWL, AND A RECONCILIATION. 

The Blackfeet warriors, when they effected their midnight 
retreat from their wild fastness in Pierre’s Hole, fell back into 
the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green River, where they 
joined the main body of their band. The whole force 
amounted to several hundred fighting men, gloomy and exas- 
perated by their late disaster. They had with them their 
wives and children, which incapacitated them from any bold 
and extensive enterprise of a warlike nature ; but when, in the 
course of their wanderings, they came in sight of the encamp- 
ment of Fontenelle, who had moved some distance up Green 
River valley in search of the free trappers, they put up tre- 
mendous war-cries, and advanced fiercely as if to attack it. 
Second thoughts caused them to moderate their fury. They 
recollected the severe lesson just received, and could not but 
remark the strength of Fontenelle’s position ; which had been 
chosen ?with great judgment. A formal talk ensued. The 
Blackfeet said nothing of the late battle, of which Fontenelle 
had as yet received no accounts ; the latter, however, knew the 
hostile and perfidious nature of these savages, and took care to 
inform them of the encampment of Captain Bonneville, that 
they might know there were more white men in the neighbor- 
hood. 



62 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



The conference ended, Fontenelle sent a Delaware Indian of 
his party to conduct fifteen of the Blackfeet to the camp of 
Captain Bonneville. There were at that time two Crow In- 
dians in the captain’s camp who had recently arrived there. 
They looked with dismay upon this deputation from their im- 
placable enemies, and gave the captain a terrible character of 
them, assuring him that the best thing he could possibly do 
was to put those Blackfeet deputies to death on the spot. The 
captain, however, who had heard nothing of the conflict at 
Pierre’s Hole, declined all compliance with this sage counsel. 
He treated the grim warriors with his usual urbanity. They 
passed some little time at the camp ; saw, no doubt, that every- 
thing was conducted with military skill and vigilance ; and 
that such an enemy was not to be easily surprised, nor to be 
molested with impunity, and then departed, to report all that 
they had seen to their comrades. 

The two scouts which Captain Bonneville had sent out to 
seek for the band of free trappers, expected by Fontenelle, and 
to invite them to his camp, had been successful in their search, 
and on the 12th of August those worthies made their appear- 
ance. 

To explain the meaning of the appellation free trapper it is 
necessary to state the terms on which the men enlist in the 
service of the fur companies. Some have regular wages and 
are furnished with weapons, horses, traps, and other requisites. 
These are under command, and bound to do every duty re- 
quired of them connected with the service; such as hunting, 
trapping, loading and unloading the horses, mounting guard ; 
and, in short, all the drudgery of the camp. These are the 
hired trappers. 

The free trappers are a more independent class; and in de- 
scribing them we shall do little more than transcribe the gra- 
phic description of them by Captain Bonneville. ‘ ^ They come 
and go,” says he, “ when and where they please; provide their 
own horses, arms, and other equipments; trap and trade on 
their own account, and dispose of their skins and peltries to 
the highest bidder. Sometimes, in a dangerous hunting 
ground, they attach themselves to the camp of some trader 
for protection. Here they come under some restrictions ; they 
have to conform to the ordinary rules for trapping, and to sub- 
mit to such restraints and to take part in such general duties 
as are established for the good order and safety of the camp. 
In return for this protection, and for their camp keeping, they 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



83 



are bound to dispose of all the beaver they take to the trader 
who commands the camp, at a certain rate per skin ; or, should 
they prefer seeking a market elsewhere, they are to make him 
an allowance of from thirty to forty dollars for the whoi# 
hunt.” 

There is an inferior order who, either from prudence or 
poverty, come to these dangerous hunting grounds without 
horses or accoutrements, and are furnished by the traders. 
These, like the hired trappers, are bound to exert themselves 
to the utmost in taking beaver, which, without skinning, they 
render in at the trader’s lodge, where a stipulated price for 
each is placed to their credit. These, though generally in- 
cluded in the generic name of free trappers, have the more 
specific title of skin trappers. 

The wandering whites who mingle for any length of time 
with the savages have invariably a proneness to adopt savage 
habitudes ; but none more so than the free trappers. It is a 
matter of vanity and ambition with them to discard every- 
thing that may bear the stamp of civilized life, and to adopt 
the manners, habits, dress, gesture, and even walk of the In- 
dian. You cannot pay a free trapper a greater compliment 
than to persuade him you have mistaken him for an Indian 
brave; and in truth the counterfeit is complete. His hair, 
suffered to attain to a great length, is carefully combed out, 
and either left to fall carelessly over his shoulders, or plaited 
neatly and tied up in otter skins of parti-colored ribbons. A 
hunting-shirt of ruffled calico of bright dyes, or of ornamented 
leather, falls to liis knee: below which, curiously fashioned 
leggins, ornamented with strings, fringes, and a profusion of 
hawks’ bells, reach to a costly pair of moccasons of the finest 
Indian fabric, richly embroidered with beads. A blanket of 
scarlet, or some other bright color, hangs from his shoulders, 
and is girt round his waist with a red sash, in which he be- 
stows his pistols, knife, and the stem of his Indian pipe ; pre- 
parations either for peace or war. His gun is lavishly deco- 
rated with brass tacks and vermilion, and provided with a 
fringed cover, occasionally of buckskin, ornamented here and 
there with a feather. His horse, the noble minister to the 
pride, pleasure, and profit of the mountaineer, is selected for 
his speed and spirit and prancing gait, and holds a place in his 
estimation second only to himself. He shares largely of his 
bounty, and of his pride and pomp of trapping. He is ca- 
parisoned in the most dashing and fantastic style ; the bridles 



64 



ADVENTURED OF CAFTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and crupper are weightily embossed with beads and cockades; 
and head, mane and tail are interwoven with abundance of 
eagles’ plumes which flutter in the wind. To complete this 
grotesque equipment, the proud animal is bestreaked and be- 
spotted with vermilion, or with white clay, whichever presents 
the most glaring contrast to his real color. 

Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of these 
rangers of the wilderness, and their appearance at the camp 
was strikingly characteristic. They came dashing forward at 
full speed, firing their fusees and yelling in Indian style. Their 
dark sunburned faces, and long flowing hair, their leggins, 
flags, moccasons, and richly-dyed blankets, and their painted 
horses gaudily caparisoned, gave them so much the air and 
appearance of Indians that it was difficult to persuade one’s 
self that they were white men, and had been brought up in 
civilized life. 

Captain Bonneville, who was delighted with the game look 
of these cavaliers of the mountains, welcomed them heartily to 
his camp, and ordered a free allowance of grog to regale them, 
which soon put them in the most braggart spirits. They pro- 
nounced the captain the finest fellov/ in the world, and his 
men all hons gargons^ jo vied lads, and swore they would pass 
the day with them. They did so ; and a day it was, of boast, 
and swagger, and rodomontade. The prime bullies and braves 
among the free trappers had each his circle of novices, from 
among the captain’s band ; mere greenhorns, men unused to 
Indian life; mangeurs de lard, or pork-eaters; as such new- 
comers are superciliously called by the veterans of the wilder- 
ness. These he would astonish and delight by the hour, with 
prodigious tales of his doings among the Indians ; and of the 
wonders he had seen, and the wonders he had performed, in 
his adventurous peregrinations among the mountains. 

In the evening, the free trappers drew off, and returned to the 
camp of Fontenelle, highly delighted with their visit, and with 
their new acquaintances, and promising to return the follow- 
ing day. They kept their word; day after day their visits 
were repeated; they became ‘‘hail fellow weU met” with 
Captain Bonneville’s men; treat after treat succeeded, until 
both parties got most potently convinced, or rather con- 
founded, by liquor. Now came on confusion and uproar. The 
free trappers were no longer suffered to have all the swagger 
to themselves. The camp bullies and prime trappers of the 
party began to ruffle up and to brag, in turn, of their perils 



ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



65 

and achievements. Each now tried to out-boast and out- 
talk the other ; a quarrel ensued, as a matter of course, and a 
general fight, according to frontier usage. The two factions 
drew out their forces for a pitched battle. They fell to work 
and belabored each other with might and main; kicks and 
cuffs and dry blows were as well bestowed as they were 
well merited, until, having fought to their hearts’ content, 
and been drubbed into a familiar acquaintance with each 
other’s prowess and good qualities, they ended the fight by be- 
coming firmer friends than they could have been rendered by 
a year’s peaceable companionship. 

While Captain Bonneville amused himself by observing the 
habits and characteristics of this singular class of men, and in- 
dulged them, for the time, in all their vagaries, he profited by 
the opportunity to collect from them information concerning 
the different parts of the country about which they had been 
accustomed to range ; the characters of the tribes, and, in short, 
everything important to his enterprise. He also succeeded in 
securing the services of several to guide and aid him in his 
peregrinations among the mountains, and to trap for him 
during the ensuing season. Having strengthened his party 
v/ith such valuable recruits, he felt in some measure consoled 
for the loss of the Delaware Indians, decoyed from him by Mr. 
Fontenelle. 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

PLANS FOR THE WINTER — SALMON RIVER— ABUNDANCE OF SAL- 
MON WEST OF THE MOUNTAINS — NEW ARRANGEMENTS— CACHES 
— CERRE’S detachment — MOVEMENTS IN FONTENELLE’S CAMP 
— DEPARTURE OF THE BLACKFEET — THEIR FORTUNES — WIND 
MOUNTAIN STREAMS— BUCKEYE, THE DELAWARE HUNTER, AND 
THE GRIZZLY BEAR — BONES OF MURDERED TRAVELLERS — VISIT 
TO PIERRE’S HOLE — TRACES OF THE BATTLE — NEZ PERCE IN- 
DIANS— ARRIVAL AT SALMON RIVER. 

The information derived from the free trappers determined 
Captain Bonneville as to his further movements. He learned 
that in the Green River valley the winters were severe, the 
snow frequently falling to the depth of several feet ; and that 
there was no good wintering ground in the neighborhood. 



66 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



The upper part of Salmon River was represented as far more 
eligible, besides being in an excellent beaver country; and 
thither the captain resolved to bend his course. 

The Salmon River is one of the upper branches of the Oregon 
or Columbia; and takes its rise from various sources, among a 
group of mountains to the northwest of the Wind River chain. 
It owes its name to the immense shoals of salmon which as 
cend it in the months of September and October. The salmon 
on the west side of the Rocky Moimtains are, like the buffalo 
on the eastern plans, vast migratory supplies for the wants of 
man, that come and go with the seasons. As the buffalo in 
countless throngs find their certain way in the transient pas- 
turage on the prairies, along the fresh banks of the rivers, and 
up every valley and green defile of the mountains, so the sal- 
mon, at their allotted seasons, regulated by a subhme and all- 
seeing Providence, swarm in myriads up the great rivers, and 
find their way up their main branches, and into the minutest 
tributary streams ; so as to pervade the great arid plains, and 
to penetrate even among barren mountains. Thus wandering 
tribes are fed in the desert places of the wilderness, where there 
is no herbage for the animals of the chase, and where, but for 
these periodical supplies, it would be impossible for man to 
subsist. 

The rapid currents of the rivers which run into the Pacific 
render the ascent of them very exhausting to the salmon. 
When the fish first run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine 
order. The struggle against impetuous streams and frequent 
rapids gradually renders them thin and weak, and great num- 
bers are seen fioating down the rivers on their backs. As the 
season advances and the water becomes chilled, they are fiung 
in myriads on the shores, where the wolves and bears assem- 
ble to banquet on them. Often they rot in such quantities 
along the river banks, as to taint the atmosphere. They are 
commonly from two to three feet long. 

Captain Bonneville now made his arrangements for the 
autumn and the winter. The nature of the country through 
which he was about to travel rendered it impossible to proceed 
with wagons. He had more goods and supplies of various 
kinds, also, than were required for present purposes, or than 
could be conveniently transported on horseback ; aided, there- 
fore, by a few confidential men, he made caches^ or secret pits, 
during the night, when all the rest of the camp were asleep, 
and in these deposited the superfluous effects, together with 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



67 



the wagons. All traces of the caches were then carefully 
obliterated. This is a common expedient v/itn the traders and 
trappers of the mountains. Having no established posts and 
magazines, they make these caches or deposits at certain 
points, whither they repair occasionally, for supplies. It is an 
expedient derived from the wandering tribes of Indians. 

Many of the horses were stiU so weak and lame as to be 
unfit for a long scramblo through the mountains. These were 
collected into one cavalcade, and given in charge to an experi- 
enced trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He was to proceed 
westward, with a brigade of trappers, to Bear River ; a stream 
to the west of the Green River or Colorado, where there was 
good pasturage for the horses. In this neighborhood it was 
expected he would meet the Shoshonie villages or bands,* on 
their yearly migrations, with whom he was to trade for peltries 
and provisions. After he had traded with these people, finished 
his trapping, and recruited the strength of the horses, he was 
to proceed to Salmon River, and rejoin Captain Bonneville, 
who intended to fix his quarters there for the winter. 

While these arrangements were in progress in the camp of 
Captain Bonneville, there was a sudden bustle and stir in the 
camp of Fontenelle. One of the partners of the American Fur 
Company had arrived, in aU haste, from the rendezvous at 
Pierre’s Hole, in quest of the supplies. The competition be- 
tween the two rival companies was just now at its height, and 
prosecuted with unusual zeal. The tramontane concerns of 
the Rocky Mountain Fur Company were managed by two 
resident partners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger ; those of the 
American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and Dripps. The 
latter were ignorant of the mountain regions, but trusted to 
make up by vigilance and activity for their want of knowledge 
of the country. « 

Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trapper, knew the 
evils of competition in the same hunting grounds, and had 
proposed that the two companies should divide the country, so 
as to hunt in different directions: this proposition being re- 
jected, he had exerted himself to get first into the field. His 
exertions, as have already been shown, were effectual. The 



* A village of Indians, in trappers’ language, does not always imply a fixed com- 
munity; but often a wandering horde or band. The Shoshonies, like most of the 
mountain tribes, have no settled residences; but are a nomadic people, dwelling in 
tents or lodges, and shifting their encampments from place to place, according as 
fish and game abound. 



68 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



early arrival of Sublette, with supplies, had enabled the vari- 
ous brigades of the Rocky Mountain Company to start off to 
their respective hunting grounds. Fitzpatrick himself, with 
his associate, Bridger, had pushed off with a strong party of 
trappers, for a prime beaver country to the north-northwest. 

This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. He had has- 
tened on to meet Fontenelle. Finding him at his camp in 
Green River valley, he immediately furnished himself with 
the supplies ; put himself at the head of the free trappers and 
Delawares, and set off with all speed, determined to follow 
hard upon the heels of Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the ad- 
ventures of these parties among the mountains, and the dis- 
astrous effects of their competition, we shall have occasion to 
treat in a future chapter. 

Fontenelle, having now delivered his supplies and accom- 
plished his errand, struck his tents and set off on his return to 
the Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, 
remained alone in the Green River valley ; and their situation 
might have been perilous, had the Blackfeet band still ling- 
ered in the vicinity. Those marauders, however, had been 
dismayed at finding so many resolute and well-appointed par- 
ties of white men in this neighborhood. They had, therefore, 
abandoned this part of the country, passing over the head- 
waters of the Green River, and bending their course toward 
the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued them. Their route lay 
through the country of their deadly enemies, the Crows. In 
the Wind River valley, which hes east of the mountains, they 
were encountered by a pov/erful war party of that tribe, and 
completely put to rout. Forty of them were killed, many of 
their women and children captured, and the scattered fugitives 
hunted like wild beasts, until they were completely chased out 
of the Crow country. 

On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his 
camp, and set out on his route for Salmon River. His bag- 
gage was arranged in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse ; 
one being disposed on each side of the animal, and one on 
the top ; the three forming a load of from one hundred and 
eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. This is the trap- 
pers’ style of loading their pacl^-horses. His men, however, 
w^ere inexpert at adjusting the packs, which were prone to get 
loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep a rear-guard 
to assist in reloading. A few days’ experience, however, 
brought them into proper training. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



69 



Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, over* 
looked to the right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River 
Mountains. From bright httle lakes and fountain-heads of 
this remarkable bed of mountains poured forth the tributary 
streams of the Seeds-ke-dee. Some came rushing down gullies 
and ravines; others tumbling in crystal cascades from in- 
accessible clefts and rocks, and others winding their way in 
rapid and pellucid currents across the valley, to throw them- 
selves into the main river. So transparent were these waters 
that the trout with which they abounded could be seen gliding 
about as if in the air ; and their pebbly beds were distinctly 
visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful and diaph- 
anous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for a 
long time after they have mingled their waters and swollen 
into important rivers. 

Issuing from the upper part of the valley. Captain Bonne- 
ville continued to the east-northeast, across rough and lofty 
ridges, and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to 
man and horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian 
who had remained faithful to him. His name was Buck- 
eye. He had often prided himself on his skiU and success 
in coping with the grizzly bear, that terror of the hunters. 
Though crippled in the left arm, he declared he had no hesita- 
tion to close with a wounded bear, and attack him with a 
sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to brave the 
animal when in full force and fury. He had tv/ice an oppor- 
tunity of proving his prowess, in the course of this mountain 
journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to seat 
himself upon the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting on 
his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would await the approach 
of the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he 
was close at hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead 
upon the spot. 

A march of three or four days, through savage and lonely 
scenes, brought Captain Bonneville to the fatal defile of Jack- 
son’s Hole, where poor More and Foy had been surprised and 
murdered by the Blackfeet. The feelings of the captain were 
shocked at beholding the bones of these unfortunate yoimg 
men bleaching among the rocks ; and he caused them to be 
decently interred. 

On the 3d of September he arrived on the summit of a moun- 
tain which commanded a full view of the eventful valley of 
Pierre’s Hole ; whence he could trace the wdnding of its stream 



70 



ADVEJSTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



through green meadows and forests of willow and cottonwood, 
and have a prospect, between distant mountains, of the lava 
plains of Snake Eiver, dimlj spread forth like a sleeping ocean 
below. 

After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he descended into 
the valley, and visited the scenes of the late desperate conflicto 
There were the remains of the rude fortress in the STvamp, 
shattered by rifie shot, and strewed with the mingled bones ot 
savages and horses. There was the late populous and noisy 
rendezvous, with the traces of trappers’ camps and Indian 
lodges ; but their fires were extinguished, the motley assem- 
blage of trappers and hunters, white traders and Indian 
braves, had aU dispersed to different points of the wilder- 
ness, and the valley had relapsed into its pristine solitude 
and silence. 

That night the captain encamped upon the battle ground ; 
the next day he resumed his toOsome peregrinations through 
the mountains. For upward of two weeks he continued his 
painful march ; both men and horses suffering excessively at 
times from hunger and thirst. At length, on the 19th of Sep- 
tember, he reached the upper waters of Salmon River. 

The weather was cold, and there were symptoms of an im- 
pending storm. The night set in, but Buckeye, the Delaware 
Indian, was missing. He had left the party early in the morn- 
ing, to hunt by himself, according to his custom. Fears were 
entertained lest he should lose his way and become bewildered 
in tempestuous weather. These fears increased on the follow- 
ing morning when a violent snow-storm came on, which soon 
covered the earth to the depth of several inches. Captain 
Bonneville immediately encamped, and sent out scouts in 
every direction. After some search Buckeye was discovered, 
quietly seated at a considerable distance in the rear, waiting 
the expected approach of the party, not knowing that they had 
passed, the snow having covered their trail. 

On the ensuing morning they resumed their march at an 
early hour, but had not proceeded far when the hunters, who 
were beating up the country in the advance, came gallop- 
ing back, making signals to encamp, and crying Indians! 
Indians ! 

Captain Bonneville immediately struck into a skirt of wood 
and prepared for action. The savages were now seen trooping 
over the hills in great numbers. One of them left the main 
body and came forward singly, making signals of peace. He 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



71 



announced them as a band of Nez Perces,* or Pierced-nose In- 
dians, friendly to the whites, whereupon an invitation was re- 
turned by Captain Bonneville for them to come and encamp 
with him. They halted for a short time to make their toilet, an 
operation as important with an Indian warrior as with a fash- 
ionable beauty. This done they arranged themselves in 
martial style, the chiefs leading the van, the braves following 
in a long line, painted and decorated, and topped off with flut- 
tering plumes. In this way they advanced, shouting and 
singing, firing off their fusees, and clashing their shields. The 
two parties encamped hard by each other. The Nez Perces 
were on a hunting expedition, but had been almost famished 
on their march. They had no provisions left but a few dried 
salmon; yet, finding the white men equally in want they 
generously offered to share even this meagre pittance, and 
frequently repeated the offer with an earnestness that left no 
doubt of their sincerity. Their generosity won the heart of 
Captain Bonneville, and produced the most cordial good-will 
on the part of his men. For two days that the parties 
remained in company, the most amicable intercourse pre- 
vailed, and they parted the best of friends. Captain Bonne- 
ville detached a few men under Mr. Cerre, an able leader,, to 
accompany the Nez Perces on their hunting expedition, and to 
trade with them for meat for the winter’s supply. After this, 
he proceeded down the river about five miles below the forks, 
when he came to a halt on the 26 th of September^ to establish 
his winter quarters. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

HORSES TURNED LOOSE— PREPARATIONS FOR WINTER QUARTERS 
—HUNGRY TIMES — NEZ PERCES, THEIR HONESTY, PIETY, 
PACIFIC HABITS, RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES— CAPTAIN BONNE- 
VILLE’S CONVERSATIONS WITH THEM— THEIR LOVE OF GAM- 
BLING. 

It was gratifying to Captain Bonneville, after so long and 
toilsome a course of travel, to relieve his poor jaded horses of 



* We should observe that this tribe is universally called by its French 
name, which is pronounced by the trappers, Nepercy. There are two main 
branches of this tribe, the upper Nepercys and the lower Nepercys, as we 
shall show hereafter. 



72 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



the burdens under which they were almost ready to give out, 
and to behold them rolling upon the grass, and taking a long 
repose after all their sufferings. Indeed, so exhausted were 
they, that those employed under the saddle were no longer 
capable of hunting for the daily subsistence of the camp. 

All hands now set to work to prepare a winter cantonment. 
A temporary fortification was thrown up for the protection of 
the party ; a secure and comfortable pen, into which the horses 
could be driven at night ; and huts were built for the reception 
of the merchandise. 

This done. Captain Bonneville made a distribution of his 
forces ; twenty men were to remain with him in garrison to 
protect the property ; the rest were organized into three bri- 
gades, and sent off in different directions, to subsist them- 
selves by hunting the buffalo, until the snow should become 
too deep. 

Indeed, it would have been impossible to provide for the 
whole party in this neighborhood. It was at the extreme wes- 
tern limit of the buffalo range, and these animals had recently 
been completely hunted out of the neighborhood by the Nez 
Perces, so that, that, although the hunters of the garrison were 
continually on the alert, ranging the country round, they 
brought in scarce game sufficient to keep famine from the 
door. Now and then there was a scanty meal of fish or wild- 
fowl, occasionally an antelope ; but frequently the cravings of 
hunger had to be appeased with roots, or the flesh of wolves 
and musk-rats. Earely could the inmates of the cantonment 
boast of having made a full meal, and never of having where- 
withal for the morrow. In this way they starved along until 
the 8th of October, when they were joined by a party of five 
families of Nez Perces, who in some measure reconciled them 
to the hardships of their situation, by exhibiting a lot still more 
destitute. A more forlorn set they had never encountered; 
they had not a morsel of meat or fish ; nor anything to subsist 
on, excepting roots, wild rosebuds, the barks of certain plants, 
and other vegetable productions ; neither had they any weapon 
for hunting or defense, excepting an old spear. Yet the poor 
feUows made no murmur nor complaint; but seemed accus- 
tomed to their hard fare. If they could not teach the white 
men their practical stoicism, they at least made them ac- 
quainted with the edible properties of roots and wild rosebuds, 
and furnished them a supply from their own store. The 
necessities of the camp at length became so urgent that Cap* 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



73 



tain Bonneville determined to dispatch a party to the Horse 
Prairie, a plain to the north of his cantonment, to procure a 
supply of provisions. When the men were about to depart, he 
proposed to the Nez Perces that they, or some of them, should 
join the hunting party. To his surprise they promptly de- 
clined. He inquired the reason for their refusal, seeing that 
they were in nearly as starving situation as his own people. 
They replied that it was a sacred day with them, and the Great 
Spirit would be angry should they devote it to hunting. They 
offered, however, to accompany the party if it would delay its 
departure until the following day; but this the pinching de- 
mands of hunger would not permit, and the detachment pro- 
ceeded. A few days afterward, four of them signified to 
Captain Bonneville that they were about to hunt. “What!” 
exclaimed he, “without guns or arrows; and with only one 
old spear? What do you expect to kill?” They smiled among 
themselves, but made no answer. Preparatory to the chase, 
they performed some religious rites, and offered up to the 
Great Spirit a few short prayers for safety and success ; then, 
having received the blessings of their wives, they leaped upon 
their horses and departed, leaving the whole party of Chris- 
tian spectators amazed and rebuked by this lesson of faith and 
dependence on a supreme and benevolent Being. “Accus- 
tomed,” adds Captain Bonneville, “ as I had heretofore been, 
to find the wretched Indian revelling in blood and stained by 
every vice which can degrade human nature, I could scarcely 
realize the scene which I had witnessed. Wonder at such un- 
affected tenderness and piety, where it was least to have been 
sought, contended in all our bosoms with shame and confusion, 
at receiving such pure and wholesome instructions from crea- 
tures so far below us in the arts and comforts of fife.” The 
simple prayers of the poor Indians were not unheard. In the 
course of four or five days they returned, laden with meat. 
Captain Bonneville was curious to know how they had 
attained such success with such scanty means. They gave him 
to understand that they had chased the herds of buffalo at full 
speed, until they tired them down, when they easily dispatched 
them with the spear, and made use of the same weapon to flay 
the carcasses. To carry through their lessons to their Chris- 
tian friends, the poor savages were as charitable as they had 
been pious, and generously shared with them the spoils of them 
hunting; giving them food enough to last for several days. 

A further and more intimate intercourse with this tribe gave 



74 



ajjve:ntures of captain Bonneville. 



Captain Bonneville still greater cause to admire their strong 
devotional feeling. “Simply to call these people religious,” 
says he, “would convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of 
piety and devotion which pervades their whole conduct. Their 
honesty is immaculate, and their purity of purpose, and their 
observance of the rites of their religion, are most uniform and 
remarkable. They are, certainly more like a nation of saints 
than a horde of savages.” 

In fact, the antibelligerent policy of this tribe may have 
sprung from the doctrines of Christian charity, for it would 
appear that they had imbibed some notions of the Christian 
faith from Catholic missionaries and traders who had been 
among them. They even had a rude calendar of the fasts and 
festivals of the Eomish Church, and some traces of its cere- 
monials. These have become blended with their own wild 
rites, and present a strange medley ; civilized and barbarous* 
On the Sabbath, men, women, and children array themselves 
in their best style, and assemble round a pole erected at the 
head of the camp. Here they go through a wild fantastic 
ceremonial; strongly resembling the religious dance of the 
Shaking Quakers ; but from its enthusiasm, much more strik- 
ing and impressive. During the intervals of the ceremony, 
the principal chiefs, who officiate as priests, instruct them in 
their duties, and exhort them to virtue and good deeds. 

“ There is something antique and patriarchal,” observes Cap- 
tain Bonneville, “in this union of the offices of leader and 
priest ; as there is in many of their customs and manners, 
which are all strongly imbued with religion.” 

The worthy captain, indeed, appears to have been strongly 
interested by this gleam of unlooked-for light amid the dark- 
ness of the wilderness. He exerted himself, during his sojourn 
among this simple and well-disposed people, to inculcate, as far 
as he was able, the gentle and humanizing precepts of tlic 
Christian faith, and to make them acquainted with the lead- 
ing points of its history ; and it speaks highly for the purity 
and benignity of his heart, that he derived unmixed happiness 
from the task. 

“Many a time,” says he, “was my little lodge thronged, or 
rather piled with hearers, for they lay on the ground, one lean- 
ing over the other, until there was no further room, all listening 
with greedy ears to the wonders which the Great Spirit had 
revealed to the white man. No other subject gave them half 
the satisfaction, or commanded half the attention; and but 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



75 



few scenes in my life remain so freshly on my memory, or are 
so pleasurably recalled to my contemplation, as these hours of 
intercourse with a dista.nt and benighted race in the midst of 
the desert.” 

The only excesses indulged in by this temperate and exem- 
plary people, appear to be gambling and horseracing. In these 
they engage with an eagerness that amounts to infatuation. 
Knots of gamblers will assemble before one of their lodge fires, 
early in the evening, and remain absorbed in the chances and 
changes of the game until long after dawn of the following 
day. As the night advances, they wax warmer and warmer. 
Bets increase in amount, one loss only serves to lead to a greater, 
until in the course of a single night’s gambling, the richest 
chief may become the poorest varlet in the camp. 



CHAPTER X. 

BLACKFEET IN THE HORSE PRAIRIE— SEARCH AFTER THE HUNT- 
ERS— DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS— A CARD PARTY IN THE WIL- 
DERNESS— THE CARD PARTY INTERRUPTED— OLD SLEDGE” A 
LOSING GAME— VISITORS TO THE CAMP— IROQUOIS HUNTERS— 
HANGING-EARED INDIANS. 

On the 12th of October, two young Indians of the Nez Perce 
tribe arrived at Captain Bonneville’s encampment. They were 
on their way homeward, but had been obliged to swerve from 
their ordinary route through the mountains, by deep snows. 
Their new route took them through the Horse Prairie. In 
traversing it, they had been attracted by the distant smoke of 
a camp fire, and on stealing near to reconnoitre, had discovered 
a war party of Blackfeet. They had sev< 2 ^’al horses with them ; 
and, as they generally go on foot on warlike excursions, it was 
concluded that these horses had been captured in the course of 
their maraudings. 

This intelligence awakened solicitude on the mind of Captain 
Bonneville for the party of hunters whom he had sent to that 
neighborhood; and the Nez Perzes, when informed of the cir- 
cmnstance, shook their heads, and declared their belief that 
the horses they had seen had been stolen from that very party. 

Anxious for information on the subject, Captain Bonne- 
ville dispatched two hunters to beat up the country in that 



76 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



direction. They searched in vain; not a trace of the men 
could be found ; hut they got into a region destitute of game, 
where they were well-nigh famished. At one time they were 
three entire days without a mouthful of food ; at length they 
beheld a buffalo grazing at the foot of the mountain. After 
manoeuvring so as to get within shot, they fired, but merely 
Vv^ounded him. He took to flight, and they followed him over 
hill and dale, with the eagerness and perseverance of starving 
men. A more lucky shot brought him to the ground. Stan- 
field sprang upon him, plunged his knife into his throat, and 
allayed his raging hunger by drinking his blood. A fire was 
instantly kindled beside the carcass, when the two hunters 
cooked, and ate again and again, until, perfectly gorged, they 
sank to sleep before their hunting fire. On the following 
morning they rose early, made another hearty meal, then 
loading themselves with buffalo meat, set out on their return 
to the camp, to report the fruitlessness of their mission. 

At length, after six weeks’ absence, the hunters made their 
appearance, and were received with joy proportioned to the 
anxiety that had been felt on their account. They had hunted 
with success on the prairie, but, while busy drying buffalo 
meat, were joined by a few panic-stricken Flatheads, who 
informed them that a powerful band of Blackfeet were at 
hand. The hunters immediately abandoned the dangerous 
hunting ground, and accompanied the Flatheads to their 
village. Here they found Mr. Cerre, and the detachment of 
hunters sent wifch him to accompany the hunting party of the 
Nez Perces. 

After remaining some time at the village, until they sup- 
posed the Blackfeet to have left the neighborhood, they set off 
with some of Mr. Cerre’s men for the cantonment at Salmon 
Biver, where they arrived without accident. Tney informed 
Captain Bonneville, however, that not far from his quarters 
they had found a wallet of fresh meat and a cord, which the.^^ 
supposed had been left by some prowling Blackfeet. A fe\f 
days afterward Mr. Cerre, with the remainder of his men. 
likewise arrived at the cantonment. 

Mr. Walker, one of his subleaders, who had gone with a 
band of twenty hunters to range the country just beyood the 
Horse Prairie, had likewise his share of adventures with the 
all-pervading Blackfeet. At one of his encampments the 
guard stationed to keep watch round the camp grew weary ol 
their duty, and feeling a little too secure, and too much at 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



77 



home on these prairies, retired to a small grove of willows to 
amuse themselves with a social game of cards called ‘‘old 
sledge,” which is as popular among these trampers of the 
prairies as whist or ecarte among the polite circles of the 
cities. From the midst of their sport they were suddenly 
roused by a discharge of firearms and a shrill war-whoop. 
Starting on their feet, and snatching up their rifles, they 
beheld in dismay their horses and mules already in possession 
of the enemy, who had stolen upon the camp unperceived, 
while they were spell-bound by the magic of old sledge. The 
Indians sprang upon the animals barebacked, and endeavored 
to urge them off under a galling fire that did some execution. 
The mules, however, confounded by the hurly-burly and dis- 
liking their new riders kicked up their heels and dismounted 
half of them, in spite of their horsemanship. This threw the 
rest into confusion ; they endeavored to protect their unhorsed 
comrades from the furious assaults of the whites ; but, after a 
scene of “confusion worse confounded,” horses and mules 
were abandoned, and the Indians betook themselves to the 
bushes. Here they quickly scratched holes in the earth about 
two feet deep, in which they prostrated themselves, and while 
thus screened from the shots of the ^^hite men, were enabled 
to make such use of their bows and arrows and fusees, as to 
repulse their assailants ' and to effect their retreat. This 
adventure threw a temporary stigma upon the game of ‘ ‘ old 
sledge.” 

In the course of the autumn, four Iroquois hunters, driven 
by the snow from their hunting grounds, made their appear- 
ance at the cantonment. They were kindly welcomed, and 
during their sojourn made themselves useful in a variety of 
ways, being excellent trappers and first-rate woodsmen. They 
were of the remnants of a party of Iroquois hunters that came 
from Canada into these mountain regions many years previ- 
ously, in the employ of the Hudson’s Bay Company. They 
were led by a brave chieftain, named Pierre, who fell by the 
hands of the Blackfeet, and gave his name to the fated valley 
of Pierre’s Hole. This branch of the Iroquois tribe has ever 
since remained among these mountains, at mortal enmity 
with the Blackfeet, and have lost many of their prime hunters 
in their feuds with that ferocious race. Some of them fell in 
with General Ashley, in the course of one of his gallant excur- 
sions into the wilderness, and have continued ever since in the 
employ of the company. 



78 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



Among the motley visitors to the winter quarters of Captain 
Bonneville was a party of Pends Oreilles (or Hanging-ears) 
and their chief. These Indians have a strong res^blance, in 
character and customs, to the Nez Perces. They amount to 
about three hundred lodges, are well armed, and possess great 
numbers of horses. During the spring, summer, and autumn, 
they hunt the buffalo about the head- waters of the Missouri, 
Henry’s Fork of the Snake River, and the northern branches 
of Salmon River. Their winter quarters are upon the Racine 
Amere, where they subsist upon roots and dried buffalo meat. 
Upon this river the Hudson’s Bay Company have established 
a trading post, where the Pends Oreilles and the Flatheads 
bring their peltries to exchange for arms, clothing, and 
trinkets. 

This tribe, like the Nez Perez, evince strong and peculiar 
feelings of natural piety. Their rehgion is not a mere 
superstitious fear, like that of most savages ; they evince ab- 
stract notions of morality ; a deep reverence for an overruling 
spirit, and a respect for the rights of their fellowmen. In one 
respect their religion partakes of the pacific doctrines of the 
Quakers. They hold that the Great Spirit is displeased with 
all nations who wantonly engage in war; they abstain, there- 
fore, from all aggressive hostilities. But though thus un- 
offending in their policy, they are called upon continually to 
wage defensive warfare ; especially with the Blackfeet ; with 
whom, in the course of their hunting expeditions, they come 
in frequent collision and have desperate battles. Their con- 
duct as warriors is without fear or reproach, and they can 
never be driven to abandon their hunting grounds. 

Like most savages they are firm believers in dreams, and in 
the power and efficacy of charms and amulets, or medicines as 
they term them. Some of their braves, also, who have had 
numerous hairbreadth ’scapes, like the old Nez Perce chief in 
the battle of Pierre’s Hole, are believed to wear a charmed 
life, and to be bullet-proof. Of these gifted beings marvellous 
anecdotes are related, which are most potently believed by 
their fellow savages, and sometimes almost credited by the 
white hunters. 



ADVEJSTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



79 



CHAPTER XI. 

RIVAL TRAPPING PARTIES— MANCEUVRING — A DESPERATE GAME— 
VANDERBURGH AND THE BLACKFEET— DESERTED CAMP FIRE— 
A DARK DEFILE — AN INDIAN AMBUSH— A FIERCE MELEE— FATAL 
CONSEQUENCES — FITZPATRICK AND BRIDGER — TRAPPERS’ PRE- 
CAUTIONS— MEETING WITH THE BLACKFEET— MORE FIGHTING- 
ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG MEXICAN AND AN INDIAN GIRL. 

While Captain BonneviUe and his men are sojourning 
among the Nez Perces, on Salmon River, we will inquire after 
the fortunes of '^hose doughty rivals of the Rocky Mountains 
and American /fur Companies, who started off for the trap- 
ping grounds to the north-northwest. 

Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the former company, as we have 
already shown, having received their supplies, had taken the 
lead, and hoped to have the first sweep of the hunting grounds. 
Vanderburgh and Dripps, however, the two resident partners 
of the opposite company, by extraordinary exertions were en- 
abled soon to put themselves upon their traces, and pressed 
iiorward with such speed as to overtake them just as they had 
reached the heart of the beaver country. In fact, being ignor 
ant of the best trapping grounds, it was their object to follow 
on, and profit by the superior knowledge of the other party. 

Nothing could equal the chagrin of Fitzpatrick and Bridger 
at being dogged by their inexperienced rivals, especially after 
their offer to divide the country with them. They tried in 
every way to blind and baffle them ; to steal a march upon 
them, or lead them on a wrong scent; but all in vain. Van- 
derburgh made up by activity and intelligence for his ignor- 
ance of the country; was always wary, always on the alert; 
discovered every movement of his rivals, however secret, and 
was not to be eluded or misled. 

Fitzpatrick and his colleague now lost all patience; since 
the others persisted in following them, they determined to give 
them an unprofitable chase, and to sacrifice the hunting season 
rather than share the products with their rivals. They ac- 
cordingly took up their line of march down the course of the 
Missouri, keeping the main Blackfoot trail, and tramping dog- 



80 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



gedly forward, without stopping to set a single trap. The 
others beat the hoof after them for some time, but by degrees 
began to perceive that they were on a wild-goose chase, and 
getting into a country perfectly barren to the trapper. They 
now came to a halt, and bethought themselves how to make 
up for lost time, and improve the remainder of the season. It 
was thought best to divide their forces and try different trap- 
ping grounds. While Dripps went in one direction, Vander- 
burgh, with about fifty men, proceeded in another. The latter, 
in his headlong march had got into the very heart of the Black- 
foot country, yet seems to have been unconscious of his danger. 
As his scouts were out one day, they came upon the traces of 
a recent band of savages. . Tliere were the deserted fires still 
smoking, surrounded by the carcasses of buffaloes just killed. 
It was evident a party of Blackfeet had been frightened from 
their hunting camp, and had retreated, probably to seek rein- 
forcements. The scouts hastened back to the camp, and told 
Vanderburgh what they had seen. He made light of the 
alarm, and, taking nine men with him, galloped off to recon- 
noitre for himself. He found the deserted hunting camp just 
as they had represented it ; there lay the carcasses of buffaloes, 
partly dismembered; there were the smouldering fires, still 
sending up their wreaths of smoke ; everything bore traces of 
recent and hasty retreat ; and gave reason to believe that the 
savages were still lurking in the neighborhood. With heed- 
less daring, Vanderburgh put himself upon their trail, to trace 
them to their place of concealment. It led him over prairies, 
and through skirts of woodland, until it entered a dark and 
dangerous ravine. Vanderburgh pushed in, without hesita- 
tion, followed by his little band. They soon found themselves 
in a gloomy dell, between steep banks overhung with trees, 
where the profound silence was only broken by the tramp ol 
their own horses. 

Suddenly the horrid war-whoop burst on their ears, mingled 
with the sharp report of rifles, and a legion of savages sprang 
from their concealments, yelling, and shaking their buffalo 
robes to frighten the horses. Vanderburgh’s horse fell, mor- 
tally wounded by the first discharge. In his fall he pinned his 
rider to the ground, who called in vain upon his men to assist 
in extricating him. One was shot down scalped a few paces 
distant ; most of the others were severely wounded, and sought 
their safety in flight. The savages approached to dispatch 
the unfortunate leader, as he lay struggling beneath his horse. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



81 



He had still his rifle in his hand and his pistols in his belt. 
The first savage that advanced received the contents of the 
rifle in his breast, and fell dead upon the spot; but before Van- 
derburgh could draw a pistol, a blow from a tomahawk laid 
him prostrate, and he was dispatched by repeated wounds. 

Such was the fate of Major Henry Vanderburgh, one of the 
best and worthiest leaders of the American Fur Company, 
who by his manly bearing and dauntless courage is said to 
have made himself universally popular among the bold-hearted 
rovers of the wilderness. 

Those of the little band who escaped fled in consternation to 
the camp, and spread direful reports of the force and ferocity 
of the enemy. The party, being without a head, were in com- 
plete confusion and dismay, and made a precipitate retreat, 
without attempting to recover the remains of their butchered 
leader. They made no halt until they reached the encamp- 
ment of the Pends Oreilles, or Hanging-ears, where they of- 
fered a reward for the recovery of the body, but without suc- 
cess ; it never could be found. 

In the meantime Fitzpatrick and Bridger, of the Eocky 
Mountain Company, fared but little better than their rivals. 
In their eagerness to mislead them they betrayed themselves 
into danger, and got into a region infested with the Blackfeet. 
They soon found that foes were on the watch for them ; but 
they were experienced in Indian warfare, and not to be sur- 
prised at night, nor drawn into an ambush in the daytime. 
As the evening advanced, the horses were all brought in and 
picketed, and a guard was stationed round the camp. At the 
earliest streak of day one of the leaders would mount his 
horse, and gallop off full speed for about half a mile; then 
look round for Indian trails, to ascertain whether there had 
been any lurkers round the camp ; returning slowly, he would 
reconnoitre every ravine and thicket where there might be an 
ambush. This done, he would gallop off in an opposite direc- 
tion and repeat the same scrutiny. Finding all things safe, 
the horses would be turned loose to graze, but always under 
the eye of a guard. 

A caution equally vigilant was observed in the march, on 
approaching any defile or place where an enemy might lie in 
wait ; and scouts were always kept in the advance, or along 
the ridges and rising grounds on the flanks. 

At length, one day, a large band of Blackfeet appeared in 
the open field, but in the vicinity of rocks and cliffs, They 



82 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



kept at a wary distance, but made friendly signs. The trap 
pers replied in the same way, but likewise kept aloof. A 
small party of Indians now advanced, bearing the pipe of 
peace ; they were met by an equal number of white men, and 
they formed a group midway between the two bands, where 
the pipe was circulated from hand to hand, and smoked with 
all due ceremony. An instance of natural affection took place 
at this pacific meeting. Among the free trappers in the Rocky 
Mountain band was a spirited young Mexican named Loretto, 
who, in the course of his wanderings, had ransomed a beauti- 
ful Blackfoot girl from a band of Crows by whom she had 
been captured. He made her his wife, after the Indian style, 
and she had followed his fortunes ever since, with the most 
devoted affection. 

Among the Blackfeet warriors who advanced with the calu- 
met of peace she recognized a brother. Leaving her infant 
with Loretto she rushed forward and threw herself upon her 
brother’s neck, who clasped his long-lost sister to his heart 
with a warmth of - affection but little compatible with the 
reputed stoicism of the savage. 

While this scene was taking place, Bridger left the main body 
of trappers and rode slowly toward the group of smokers, with 
his rifie resting across the pommel of his saddle. The chief of 
the Blackfeet stepped forward to meet him. From some un- 
fortunate feeling of distrust Bridger cocked his rifie just as the 
chief was extending his hand in friendship. The quick ear of 
the savage caught the click of the lock; in a twinkling he 
grasped the barrel, forced the muzzle downward, and the 
contents were discharged into the earth at his feet. His next 
movement was to wrest the weapon from the hand of Bridger 
and fell him with it to the earth. He might have found this 
no easy task had not the unfortunate leader received two 
arrows in his back during the struggle. 

The chief now sprang into the vacant saddle and galloped off 
to his band. A wild hurry -skurry scene ensued ; each party 
took to the banks, the rocks and trees, to gain favorable posi- 
tions, and an irregular firing was kept up on either side, with- 
out much effect. The Indian girl had been hurried off by 
her people at the outbreak of the affray. She would have 
returned, through the dangers of the fight, to her husband and 
her child, but was prevented by her brother. The young 
Mexican saw her stmggles and her agony, and heard her 
piercing cries. With a generous impulse he caught up thQ 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



83 



child in his arms, rushed forward, regardless of Indian shaft 
or rifle, and placed it in safety upon her bosom. Even the 
savage heart of the Blackfoot chief was reached by this noble 
deed. He pronounced Loretto a madman for his temerity, but 
bade him depart in peace. The young Mexican hesitated ; he 
urged to have his wife restored to him, but her brother inter- 
fered, and the countenance of the chief grew dark. The girl, 
he said, belonged to his tribe — she must remain with her peo- 
ple. Loretto would still have lingered, but his wife implored 
him to depart, lest his life should be endangered. It was with 
the greatest reluctance that he returned to his companions. 

The approach of night put an end to the skirmishing fire of 
the adverse parties, and the savages drew off without renew- 
ing their hostilities. We cannot but remark that both in this 
affair and that of Pierre’s Hole the affray commenced by a 
hostile act on the part of white men at the moment when the 
Indian warrior was extending the hand of amity. In neither 
instance, as far as circumstances have been stated to us by 
different persons, do we see any reason to suspect the savage 
chiefs of perfidy in their overtures of friendship. They ad- 
vanced in the confiding way usual among Indians when they 
bear the pipe of peace, and consider themselves sacred from 
attack. If we violate the sanctity of this ceremonial, by any 
hostile movement on our part, it is we who incur the charge of 
faithlessness ; and we doubt not that in both these instances 
the white men have been considered by the Blackfeet as the 
aggressors, and have, in consequence, been held up as men not 
to be trusted. 

A word to conclude the romantic incident of Loretto and his 
Indian bride. A few months subsequent to the event just 
related, the young Mexican settled his accounts with the 
Eocky Mountain Company, and obtained his discharge. He 
then left his comrades and set off to rejoin his wife and child 
among her people ; and we understand that, at the time we are 
writing these pa.ges, he resides at a trading-house estabhshed 
of late by the American Fur Company in the Blackfoot coun- 
try, where he acts as an interpreter, and has his Indian girl 
with him. 



84 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTEE XII. 

4 WINTER CAMP IN THE WILDERNESS— MEDLEY OF TRAPPERS, 
HUNTERS, AND INDIANS— SCARCITY OF GAME— NEW ARRANGE- 
MENTS IN THE CAMP— DETACHMENTS SENT TO A DISTANCE— 
CARELESSNESS OF THE INDIANS WHEN ENCAMPED — SICKNESS 
AMONG THE INDIANS— EXCELLENT CHARACTER OF THE NEZ 
PERCES— THE CAPTAIN’S EFFORT AS A PACIFICATOR — A NEZ 
PERCE’S ARGUMENT IN FAVOR OF WAR— ROBBERIES BY THE 
BLACKFEET— LONG SUFFERING OF THE NEZ PERCES— A HUN- 
TER’S ELYSIUIM AMONG THE MOUNTAINS— MORE ROBBERIES — 
THE CAPTAIN PREACHES UP A CRUSADE— THE EFFECT UPON 
HIS HEARERS. 

For the greater part of the month of November Captain 
Bonneville remained in his temporary post on Salmon Eiver. 
He was now in the full enjoyment of his wishes; leading a 
hunter’s life in the heart of the wilderness, with all its wild 
populace around him. Beside his own people, motley in char- 
acter and costume — creole, Kentuckian, Indian, half-breed, 
hired trapper, and free trapper — he was surrounded by en- 
campments of Nez Perces and Flatheads, with their droves of 
horses covering the hills and plains. It was, he declares, a 
wild and bustling scene. The hunting parties of white men 
and red men, continually sallying forth and returning; the 
groups at the various encampments, some cooking, some 
working, some amusing themselves at different games; the 
neighing of horses, the braying of asses, the resounding 
strokes of the axe, the sharp report of the rifle, the whoop, 
the halloo, and the frequent burst of laughter, all in the midst 
of a region suddenly roused from perfect silence and loneliness 
by this transient hunters’ sojourn, realized, he says, the idea 
of a ‘‘populous solitude.” 

The kind and genial character of the captain had, evidently, 
its influence on the opposite races thus fortuitously congregated 
together. The most perfect harmony prevailed between them. 
The Indians, he says, were friendly in their dispositions, and hon- 
est to the most scrupulous degree in their intercourse with the 
white It is true they were somewhat importunate io 



ADVENT U urn OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



85 



their curiosity, and apt to be continually in the way, examining 
everything with keen and prying eye, and watching every 
movement of the white men. All this, however, was borne 
with great good-humor by the captain, and through his exam- 
ple by his men. Indeed, throughout all his transactions he 
shows himself the friend of the poor Indians, and his conduct 
toward them is above all praise. 

The Nez Perces, the Flatheads, and the Hanging-ears pride 
themselves upon the number of their horses, of which they pos- 
sess more in proportion than any other of the mountain tribes 
within the buffalo range. Many of the Indian warriors and 
hunters encamped around Captain Bonneville possess from 
thirty to forty horses each. Their horses are stout, well-built 
ponies, of great wind, and capable of enduring the severest 
hardship and fatigue. The swiftest of them, however, are 
those obtained from the whites while sufficiently young to be^ 
come acclimated and inured to the rough service of the moun- 
tains. 

By degrees the populousness of this encampment began to 
produce its inconveniences. The immense droves of horses? 
owned by the Indians consumed the herbage of the surround 
ing hills ; while to drive them to any distant pasturage, in 2 
neighborhood abounding with lurking and deadly enemies 
would be to endanger the loss both of man and beast. Game 
too, began to grow scarce. It was soon hunted and frightene* 
out of the vicinity, and though the Indians made a wide cir 
cuit through the mountains in the hope of driving the buffal< 
toward the cantonment, their expedition was unsuccessful. I 
was plain that so large a party could not subsist themselve. 
there, nor in any one place throughout the winter. Captain 
Bonneville, therefore, altered his whole arrangements. He de- 
tached fifty men toward the south to winter upon Snake River, 
and to trap about its waters in the spring, with orders to rejoin 
him in the month of July at Horse Creek, in Green River val- 
ley, which he had fixed upon as the general rendezvous of his 
company for the ensuing year. 

Of all his late party, he now retained with him merely a 
small number of free trappers, with whom he intended to so- 
journ among the Nez Perces and Flatheads, and adopt the 
Indian mode of moving with the game and grass. Those 
bands, in effect, shortly afterward broke up their encamp- 
ments and set off for a less beaten neighborhood. Captain 
Bonneville remained behind for a few days, that be might se^ 



8G ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



cretly prepare caches, in which to deposit everything not re> 
quired for current use. Tims lightened of all superfluous 
incmnbrance, he set off on the 20th of November to rejoin his 
Indian allies. He found them encamped in a secluded part oi 
the country, at the head of a small stream. Considering them- 
selves out of all danger in this sequestered spot from their old 
enemies, the Blackfeet, their encampment manifested the most 
negligent security. Their lodges were scattered in every direct 
tion, and their horses covered every hill for a great distance 
lound, grazing upon the upland bunch grass which grew in 
great abundance, and though dry, retained its nutritious prop' 
erties instead of losing them like other grasses in the autumn. 

When the Nez Perces, Flatheads, and Pends Oreilles are en- 
camped in a dangerous neighborhood, says Captain BonneviUe, 
the greatest care is taken of their horses, those prime articles 
of Indian wealth, and objects of Indian depredation. Each 
warrior has his horse tied by one foot at night to a stake plant- 
ed before his lodge. Here they remain until broad daylight; 
by that time the young men of the camp are already ranging 
over the surrounding hills. Each family then drives its horses 
to some eligible spot, where they are left to graze unattended. 
A young Indian repairs occasionally to the pasture to give 
them water, and to see that all is well. So accustomed are the 
horses to this management, that they keep together in the pas- 
ture where they have been left. As the sun sinks behind the 
hills, they may be seen moving from all points toward the 
camp, where they surrender themselves to be tied up for the 
night. Even in situations of danger, the Indians rarely set 
guards over their camp at night, intrusting that office entirely 
to their vigilant and well-trained dogs. 

In an encampment, however, of such fancied security as that 
in which Captain Bonneville found his Indian friends, much 
of these precautions with, respect to their horses are omitted. 
They merely drive them, at nightfall, to some sequestered lit- 
tle dell, and leave them there, at perfect Liberty, until the 
morning. 

One object of Captain Bonneville in wintering among these 
Indians was to procure a supply of horses against the spring. 
They were, however, extremely unwilling to part with any, 
and it was with great difficulty that he purchased, at the rate 
of twenty dollars each, a few for the use of some of his free 
trappers who were on foot and dependent on him for their 
equipment. 



ABVIi^NTUnKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



87 



In this encampment Captain Bonneville remained from the 
21st of November to the 9th of December. During this period 
the thermometer ranged from thirteen to forty-two degrees. 
There were occasional falls of snow; but it generally melted 
away almost immediately, and the tender blades of new grass 
began to shoot up among the old. On the 7th of December, 
however, the thermometer fell to seven degrees. 

The reader will recollect that, on distributing his forces when 
in Green Eiver valley. Captain Bonneville had detached a 
party, headed by a leader of the name of Matthieu, with all the 
weak and disabled horses, to sojourn about Bear River, meet 
the Shoshonie bands, and afterward to rejoin him at his winter 
camp on Salmon River. 

More than sufficient time had elapsed, yet Matthieu failed to 
make his appearance, and uneasiness began to be felt on his 
account. Captain Bonneville sent out four men, to range the 
country through which he would have to pass, and endeavor to 
get some information concerning him ; for his route lay across 
the great Snake River plain, which spreads itself out like an 
Arabian desert, and on which a cavalcade could be descried at 
a great distance. The scouts soon returned, having proceeded 
no further than the edge of the plain, pretending that their 
horses were lame ; but it was evident they had feared to ven- 
ture, with so small a force, into these exposed and dangerous 
regions. 

A disease, which Captain Bonneville supposed to be pneu- 
monia, now appeared among the Indians, carrying off num- 
bers of them after an illness of three or four days. The 
worthy captain acted as physician, prescribing profuse sweat- 
ings and copious bleedings, and uniformly with success, if the 
patient were subsequently treated with proper care. In extra- 
ordinary cases, the poor savages called in the aid of their own 
doctors or conjurors, who officiated with great noise and mum- 
mery, but with little benefit. Those who. died during this 
epidemic were buried in graves, after the manner of the 
whites, but without any regard to the direction of the head. 
It is a fact worthy of notice that, while this malady made such 
ravages among the natives, not a single white man had the 
slightest symptom of it. 

A familiar intercourse of some standing with the Pierced- 
nose and Flathead Indians had now convinced Captain Bonne- 
ville of their amicable and inoffensive character ; he began to 
take a strong interest in them, and conceived the idea of be* 



88 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



coming a pacificator, and healing the deadly feud hetw^^en 
them and the Blackfeet, in which they were so deplorably the 
sufferers. He proposed the matter to some of the leaders, and 
urged that they should meet the Blackfeet chiefs in a grand 
pacific conference, offering to send two of his men to the 
enemy’s camp with pipe, tobacco and flag of truce, to nego- 
gotiate the proposed meeting. 

The Nez Perces and Flathead sages upon this held a council 
of war of two days’ duration, in which there was abundance of 
hard smoking and long talking, and both eloquence and to- 
bacco were nearly exhausted. At length they came to a deci- 
sion to reject the worthy captain’s proposition, and upon 
pretty substantial grounds, as ^the reader may judge. 

“War,” said the chiefs, “is a bloody business, and full of 
evil; but it keeps the eyes of the chiefs always open, and 
makes the limbs of the young men strong and supple. In war, 
every one is on the alert. If we see a trail we know it must be 
an enemy ; if the Blackfeet come to us, we know it is for war, 
and we are ready. Peace, on the other hand, sounds no alarm ; 
the eyes of the chiefs are closed in sleep, and the young men 
are sleek and lazy. The horses stray into the mountains ; the 
women and their little babes go about alone. But the heart of 
a Blackfoot is a lie, and his tongue is a trap. If he says peace 
it is to deceive; he comes to us as a brother; he smokes his 
pipe with us ; but when he sees us weak, and off our guard, he 
will slay and steal. We will have no such peaces let there be 
war !” 

With this reasoning Captain Bonne viUe was fain to ac- 
quiesce; but, since the sagacious Flatheads and their allies 
were content to remain in a state of warfare, he wished them 
at least to exercise the boasted vigilance which war was to 
produce, and to keep their eyes open. He represented to them 
the impossibility that two such considerable clans could move 
about the country without leaving trails by which they might 
be traced. Besides, among the Blackfeet braves were several 
Nez Perces, who had been taken prisoners in early youth, 
adopted by their captors, and trained up and imbued with 
warlike and predatory notions ; these had lost all sympathies 
with their native tribe, and would be prone to lead the enemy 
to their secret haunts. He exhorted them, therefore, to keep 
upon the alert, and never to remit their vigilance while within 
the range of so crafty and cruel a foe. All these counsels were 
lost upon his easy and simple-minded hearers. A careless in 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAINT BONNEVILLE. 



89 



difference reigned throughout their encampments, and then 
horses were permitted to range the hills at night in perfect 
freedom. Captain Bonneville had his own horses brought in 
at night, and properly picketed and guarded. The evil he ap- 
prehended soon took place. In a single night a swoop was 
made through the neighboring pastures by the Blackfeet, and 
eighty-six of the finest horses carried off. A whip and a rope 
were left in a conspicuous situation by the robbers, as a taunt 
to the simpletons they had unhorsed. 

Long before sunrise the news of this calamity spread like 
wildfire through the different encampments. Captain Bonne- 
ville, whose own horses remained safe at their pickets, watched 
in momentary expectation of an outbreak of warriors, Pierced- 
nose and Flathead, in furious pursuit of the marauders ; but 
no such thing — they contented themselves with searching dili- 
gently over hill and dale, to glean up such horses as had 
escaped the hands of the marauders, and then resigned them- 
selves to their loss with the most exemplary quiescence. 

Some, it is true, who were entirely unhorsed, set out on a 
begging visit to their cousins, as they called them, the Lower 
Nez Perces, who inhabit the lower country about the Colum- 
bia, and possess horses in abundance. To these they repair 
when in difficulty, and seldom fail, by dint of begging and bar- 
tering, to get themselves once more mounted on horseback. 

Game had now become scarce in the neighborhood of the 
camp, and it was necessary, according to Indian custom, to 
move off to a less beaten ground. Captain Bonneville pro- 
posed the Horse Prairie ; but his Indian friends objected that 
many of the Nez Perces had gone to visit their cousins, and 
that the whites were few in number, so that their united force 
was not sufficient to venture upon the buffalo grounds, which 
were infested by bands of Blackfeet. 

They now spoke of a place at no great distance, which they 
represented as a perfect hunter’s elysium. It was on the right 
branch, or head stream of the river, locked up among cliffs and 
precipices where there was no danger from roving bands, and 
where the Blackfeet dare not enter. Here, they said, the elk 
abounded, and the mountain sheep were to be seen trooping 
upon the rocks and hills. A little distance beyond it, also, 
herds of buffalo were to be met with, out of the range of dan- 
ger. Thither they proposed to move their camp. 

The proposition pleased the captain, who was desirous, 
through the Indians, of becoming acquainted with ah the 



90 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



secret places of the land. Accordingly, on the 9th of Decem- 
ber, they struck their tents, and moved forward by short 
stages, as many of the Indians were yet feeble from the late 
malady. 

Following up the right fork of the river they came to where 
it entered a deep gorge of the mountains, up which lay the se- 
cluded region so much valued by the Indians. Captain Bonne- 
ville halted and encamped for three days before entering the 
gorge. In the meantime he detached five of his free trappers 
to scour the hills, and kill as many elk as possible, before the 
main body should enter, as they would then be soon frightened 
away by the various Indian hunting parties. 

While thus encamped, they were still liable to the marauds 
of the Blackfeet, and Captain Bonneville admonished his 
Indian friends to be upon their guard. The Nez Perces, how- 
ever, notwithstanding their recent loss, were still careless of 
their horses ; merely driving them to some secluded spot, and 
leaving them there for the night, without setting any guard 
upon them. The consequence was a second swoop, in which 
forty -one were carried on. This was borne with equal philoso- 
phy with the first, and no effort was made either to recover 
the horses, or to take vengeance on the thieves. 

The Nez Perces, however, grew more cautious with respect 
to their remaining horses, driving them regularly to the camp 
every evening, and fastening them to pickets. Captain Bonne- 
ville, however, told them that this was not enough. It was 
evident they were dogged by a daring and persevering enemy, 
who was encouraged by past impunity; they should, there- 
fore, take more than usual precautions, and post a guard at 
night over their cavalry. They could not, however, be per- 
suaded to depart from their usual custom. The horse once 
picketed, the care of the owner was over for the night, and he 
slept profoundly. None waked in the camp but the gamblers, 
who, absorbed in their play, were more difficult to be roused 
to external circumstances than even the sleepers. 

The Blackfeet are bold enemies, and fond of hazardous ex* 
ploits. The band that were hovering a\)Out the neighborhood, 
finding that they had such pacific people to deal with, re- 
doubled their daring. The horses being now picketed before 
the lodges, a number of Blackfeet scouts penetrated in the 
early part of the night into the very centre of the camp. Here 
they Avent about among the lodges as calmly and deliberately as 
if at home, quietly cutting loose the horses that stood picketed 



ABVENTUUKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



01 



by the lodges of their sleeping owners. One of these prowlers, 
more adventurous than the rest, approached a fire round which 
a group of Nez Perces were gambling with the most intense 
eagerness. Here he stood for some time, muffied up in his 
robe, peering over the shoulders of the players, watching the 
changes of their countenances and the fluctuations of the 
game. So completely engrossed were they, that the presence 
of this muffled eaves-dropper was unnoticed and, having exe- 
cuted his bravado, he retired undiscovered. 

Having cut loose as many horses as they could conveniently 
carry off, the Blackfeet scouts rejoined their comrades, and 
all remained patiently round the camp. By degrees the 
horses, finding themselves at hberty, took their route toward 
their customary grazing ground. As they emerged from the 
camp they were silently taken possession of, until, having 
secured about thirty, the Blackfeet sprang on their backs 
and scampered off. The clatter of hoofs startled the gam- 
blers from their game. They gave the alarm, which soon 
roused the sleepers from every lodge. Still all was quiescent ; 
no marshalling of forces, no saddling of steeds and dashing 
off in pursuit, no talk of retribution for their repeated out- 
rages. The patience of Captain Bonneville was at length ex- 
hausted. He had played the part of a pacificator without 
success ; he now altered his tone, and resolved, if possible, to 
rouse their war spirit. 

Accordingly, convoking their chiefs, he inveighed against 
their craven policy, and urged the necessity of vigorous and 
retributive measures that would check the confidence and 
presumption of their enemies, if not inspire them with awe. 
For this purpose, he advised that a war party should be imme- 
diately sent off on the trail of the marauders, to follow them, 
if necessary, into the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and 
not to leave them until they had taken signal vengeance. Be- 
side this, he recommended the organization of minor war 
parties, to make reprisals to the extent of the losses sustained. 
“Unless you rouse yourselves from your apathy,” said he, 
“and strike some bold and decisive blow, you will cease to be 
considered men, or objects of manly warfare. The very 
squaws and children of the Blackfeet will be set against you, 
while their warriors reserve themselves for nobler antag- 
onists.” 

This harangue had evidently a momentary effect upon the 
pride of the hearers. After a short pause, however, one of thQ 



92 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



orators arose. It was bad, he said, to go to war for mere re- 
venge. The Great Spirit had given them a heart for peace, 
not for war. They had lost horses, it was true, but they could 
easily get others from their cousins, the Lower Nez Perces, 
without incurring any risk ; whereas, in war they should lose 
men, who were not so readily replaced. As to their late losses, 
an increased watchfulness v/ould prevent any more misfor- 
tunes of the kind. He disapproved, therefore, of all hostile 
measures ; and all the other chiefs concurred in his opinion. 

Captain Bonneville again took up the point. “It is true,” 
said he, “the Great Spirit has given you a heart to love your 
friends; but he has also given you an arm to strike your 
enemies. Unless you do something speedily to put an end to 
this continual plundering, I must say farewell. As yet I have 
sustained no loss ; thanks to the precautions which you have 
slighted ; but my property is too unsafe here ; my turn will 
come next ; I and my people will share the contempt you are 
bringing upon yourselves, and will be thought, like you, poor- 
spirited beings, who may at any time be plundered with im- 
punity.” 

The conference broke up with some signs of excitement on 
the part of the Indians. Early the next morning, a party of 
thirty men set off in pursuit of the foe, and Captain Bonne- 
ville hoped to hear a good account of the Blackfeet marau- 
ders. To his disappointment, the war party came lagging 
back on the following day, leading a few old, sorry, broken- 
down horses, which the free-booters had not been able to urge 
to sufficient speed. This effort exhausted the martial spirit, 
and satisfied the wounded pride of the Nez Perces, and they 
relapsed into their usual state of passive indifference. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

STORY OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADE BLACKFOOT. 

If the meekness and long-suffering of the Pierced-noses* 
grieved the spirit of Captain Bonneville, there was another in- 
dividual in the camp to whom they were still more annoying. 
This Avas a Blackfoot renegado, named Kosato, a fiery hot- 
blooded youth who, with a beautiful girl of the same tribe^ 



AD VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONLsEVlLLE. 



93 



had taken refuge among the Nez Perces. Though adopted 
into the tribe, he still retained the warlike spirit of his race, 
and loathed the peaceful, inoffensive habits of those around 
him. The hunting of the deer, the elk, and the buffalo, which 
was the height of their ambition, was too tame to satisfy his 
wild and restless nature. His heart burned for the foray, the 
ambush, the skirmish, the scamper, and all the haps and 
hazards of roving and predatory warfare. 

The recent hoverings of the Blackfeet about the camp, theif 
nightly prowls and daring and successful marauds, had kept 
him in a fever and a flutter, like a hawk in a cage who hears 
his late companions swooping and screaming in wild liberty 
above him. The attempt of Captain Bonneville to rouse the 
war spirit of the Nez Perces, and prompt them to retaliation, 
was ardently seconded by Kosato. For several days he was 
incessantly devising schemes of vengeance, and endeavoring to 
set on foot an expedition that should carry dismay and desola- 
tion into the Blackfeet town. All his art was exerted to touch 
upon those springs of human action with which he was most 
familiar. He drew the listening savages round him by his ner- 
vous eloquence ; taunted them with recitals of past wrongs and 
insults ; drew glowing pictures of triumphs and trophies within 
their reach ; recounted tales of daring and romantic enterprise, 
of secret marchings, covert lurkings, midnight surprisals, sack- 
ings, burnings, plunderings, scalpings; together with the tri 
umphant return, and the feasting and rejoicing of the victors. 
These wild tales were intermingled with the beating of the 
drum, the yell, the war-whoop and the war-dance, so inspiring 
to Indian valor. All, however, were lost upon the peaceful 
spirits of his hearers; not a Nez Perce was to be roused to ven- 
geance, or stimulated to glorious war. In the bitterness of his 
heart, the Blackfoot renegado repined at the mishap which had 
severed him from a race of congenial spirits, and driven him to 
take refuge among beings so destitute of martial fire. 

The character and conduct of this man attracted the atten- 
tion of Captain Bonneville, and he was anxious to hear the 
reason why he had deserted his tribe, and why he looked back 
upon them with such deadly hostility. Kosato told him his 
own story briefly : it gives a picture of the deep, strong pas- 
sions that work in the bosoms of these miscalled stoics. 

“You see my wife,” said he, “ she is good ; she is beautiful — 
I love her. Yet she has been the cause of all my troubles. 
She was the wife of my chief. I loved her more than he did; 



94 



AD rEJVTmiKS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and she knew it. We talked together ; we laughed together , we 
were always seeking each other’s society ; but we were as inno- 
cent as cliildren. The chief grew jealous, and commanded her 
to speak with me no more. His heart became hard toward her ; 
his jealousy grew more furious. He beat her without cause and 
without mercy ; and threatened to kill her outright if she even 
looked at me. Do you want traces of his fury ? Look at that scar ! 
His rage against me was no less persecuting. War parties oc 
the Crows were hovering round us ; our young men had seen 
their trail. All hearts were roused for action ; my horses were 
before my lodge. Suddenly the chief came, took them to his 
own pickets, and called them his own. What could I do? he 
was a chief. I durst not speak, but my heart was burning. T 
joined no longer in the council, the himt, or the war-feast. 
What had I to do there? an unhorsed, degraded warrior. 1 
kept by myself, and thought of nothing but these wrongs and 
outrages. 

I was sitting one evening upon a knoll that overlooked the 
meadow where the horses were pastured. I saw the horses that 
were once mine grazing among those of the chief. This mad- 
dened me, and I sat brooding for a time over the injuries I had 
suffered, and the cruelties which she I loved had endured for 
my sake, until my heart swelled and grew sore, and my teeth 
were clinched. As I looked down upon the meadow I saw the 
chief walking among his horses. I fastened my eyes upon him 
as a hawk’s ; my blood boiled ; I drew my breath hard. He went 
among the willows. In an instant I was on my feet; my hand 
was on my knife —I flew rather than ran — before he was aware 
I sprang upon him, and with two blows laid him dead at my 
feet. I covered liis body with earth, and strewed bushes over 
the place ; then I hastened to her I loved, told her what I had 
done, and urged her to fly with me. She only answered mo 
with tears. I reminded her of the wrongs I had suffered, and 
of the blows and stripes she had endured from the deceased ; I 
had done nothing but an act of justice. I again urged her to 
fly ; but she only wept the more, and bade me go. My heart 
was heavy, but my eyes were dry. I folded my arms. ‘ ’Tis 
well,’ said I; ‘ Kosato will go alone to the desert. None will 
be with him but the wild beasts of the desert. The seekers 
of blood may follow on his trail. They may come upon him 
when he sleeps and glut their revenge ; but you will be safe. 
Kosato will go alone.’ 

turned away. She sprang after me, and strained me in 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 95 

her arms. ‘ No,’ cried she, ‘ Kosato shall not go alone I Wher 
ever he goes I will go — he shall never part from me.’ 

“ We hastily took in our hands such things as wo most 
needed, and stealing quietly from the village, mounted the first 
horses we encountered. Speeding day and night, Ave soon 
reached this tribe. They received us with Avelcome, and we 
have dwelt with them in peace. They are good and kind ; they 
are honest; but their hearts are the hearts of women.” 

Such was the story of Kosato, as related by him to Captain 
Bonneville. It is of a kind that often occurs in Indian life ; 
where love elopements from tribe to tribe are as frequent as 
among the novel-read heroes and heroines of sentimental 
civilization, and often give rise to bloody and lasting feuds. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE PARTY ENTERS THE MOUNTAIN GORGE— A WILD FASTNESS 
AMONG HILLS —MOUNTAIN MUTTON— PEACE AND PLENTY— THE 
AMOROUS TRAPPER— A PIEBALD WEDDING— A FREE TRAPPER’S 
WIFE— HER GALA EQUIPMENTS— CHRIST3I AS IN THE WILDER^ 
NESS. 

On the 19th of December Captain Bonneville and his con- 
federate Indians raised their camp, and entered the narrow 
gorge made by the north fork of Salmon River. Up this lay 
the secure and plenteous hunting region so temptingly described 
by the Indians. 

Since leaving Green River the plains had invariably been of 
loose sand or coarse gravel, and the rocky formation of the 
mountains of primitive limestone. The rivers, in general, 
were skirted with willows and bitter cotton-wood trees, and 
the prairies covered with wormwood. In the hollow breast of 
the mountains Avhich they were now penetrating, the surround- 
ing heights were clothed with pine; while the declivities of the 
lower hills afforded abundance of bunch gi’ass for the horses. 

As the Indians had represented, they were now in a natural 
fastness of the mountains, the ingress and egress of which was 
by a deep gorge, so narrow, rugged, and difficult as to prevent 
secret approach or rapid retreat, and to admit of easy defence. 
The Blackfeet, therefore, refrained from venturing in after the 



96 



ABVENTUEEB OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



Nez Perces, awaiting a better chance, when they should once 
more emerge into the open country. 

Captain Bonneville soon found that the Indians had not ex- 
aggerated the advantages of this region. Besides the numer- 
ous gangs of elk, large flocks of the ahsahta or bighorn, the 
mountain sheep, were to be seen bounding among the preci- 
pices. These simple animals were easily circumvented and 
destroyed. A few hunters may surroimd a flock and kill as 
many as they please. Numbers were daily brought into 
camp, and the flesh of those which were young and fat was 
extolled as superior to the flnest mutton. 

Here, then, there was a cessation from toil, from hunger, 
and alarm. Past ills and dangers were forgotten. The hunt, 
the game, the song, the story, the rough though good-hu- 
mored joke, made time pass joyously away, and plenty and 
security reigned throughout the camp. 

Idleness and ease, it is said, lead to love, and love to matri- 
mony, in civilized life, and the same process takes place in the 
wilderness. Filled with good cheer and mountain mutton, 
one of the free trappers began to repine at the solitude of his 
lodge, and to experience the force of that great law of nature, 
‘‘ it is not meet for man to live alone.” 

After a night of grave cogitation he repaired to Kowsoter, 
the Pierced-nose chief, and unfolded to him the secret work- 
ings of his bosom. 

‘‘ I want,” said he, ‘‘a wife. Give me one from among your 
tribe. Not a young, giddy-pated girl, that wiU think of noth- 
ing but flaunting and flnery, but a sober, discreet, hard-work 
ing squaw ; one that will share my lot without flinching, how- 
ever hard it may be ; that can take care of my lodge, and be 
a companion and a helpmate to me in the wilderness.” Kow- 
soter promised to look round among the females of his tribe, 
and procure such a one as he desired. Two days were requi- 
site for the search. At the expiration of these, Kowsoter 
called at his lodge, and informed him that he would bring 
his bride to him in the course of the afternoon. He kept his 
word. At the appointed time he approached, leading the 
bride, a comely copper-colored dame attired in her Indian 
flnery. Her father, mother, brothers by the half dozen and 
cousins by the score, all followed on to grace the ceremony 
and greet the new and important relative. 

The trapper received his new and numerous family connec- 
tion with proper solemnity; he placed his bride beside him. 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 



97 



and, filling the pipe, the great symbol of peace, with his best 
tobacco, took two or three whiffs, then handed it to the chief 
who transferred it to the father of the bride, from whom it 
Was passed on from hand to hand and mouth to mouth of the 
whole circle of kinsmen round the fire, all maintaining the 
most profound and becoming silence. 

After several pipes had been filled and emptied in this sol 
emn ceremonial, the chief addressed the bride, detailing at 
considerable length the duties of a wife which, among In- 
dians, are little less onerous than those of the pack-horse; 
this done, he turned to her friends and congratulated them 
upon the great alliance she had made. They showed a due 
sense of their good fortune, especially when the nuptial pres- 
ents came to be distributed among the chiefs and relatives, 
amounting to about one hundred and eighty dollars. The 
company soon retired, and nov/ the worthy trapper found 
indeed that he had no green girl to deal with; for the know- 
ing dame at once assumed the style and dignity of a trapper's 
wife: taking possession of the lodge as her undisputed em- 
pire, arranging everything according to her own taste and 
nabitudes, and appearing as much at home and on as easy 
terms with the trapper as if they had been man and wife for 
years. 

We have already given a picture of a free trapper and his 
horse, as furnished by Captain Bonneville : we shall here sub- 
join, as a companion picture, his description of a free trap- 
per’s wife, that the reader may have a correct idea of the kind 
of blessing the worthy hunter in question had invoked to so- 
lace him in the wilderness. 

“The free trapper, while a bachelor, has no greater pet than 
his horse ; but the moment he takes a wife (a sort of brevet 
rank in matrimony occasionally bestowed upon some Indian 
fair one, like the heroes of ancient chivalry in the open field), 
he discovers that he has a still more fanciful and capricious 
animal on which to lavish his expenses. 

“No sooner does an Indian belle experience this promotion, 
than all her notions at once rise and expand to the dignity of 
her situation, and the purse of her lover, and his credit into 
the bargain, are taxed to the utmost to fit her out in becoming 
style. The wife of a free trapper to be equipped and arrayed 
like any ordinary and undistinguished squaw? Perish 
grovelling thought ! In the first place, she must have a horse 
for her own riding; but no jaded, sorry, earth-spirited hack. 



98 



ADVENTUnES OF e AFT AIN BONNEVILLE, 



such as is sometimes assigned by an Indian husband for the 
transportation of his squaw and her pappooses: the wife of a 
free trapper must have the most beautiful animal she can lay 
her eyes on. And then, as to his decoration : headstall, breast- 
bands, saddle and crupper are lavishly embroidered with beads, 
and hung with thimbles, hawks’ bells, and bunches of ribbons. 
From each side of the saddle hangs an esquimoot, a sort of 
pocket, in which she bestows the residue of her trinkets and 
nick-nacks, which cannot be crowded on the decoration of lier 
horse or herself. Over this she folds, with great care, a 
drapery of scarlet and bright-colored calicoes, and now con- 
siders the caparison of her steed complete. 

“As to her own person, she is even still more extravagant. 
Her hair, esteemed beautiful in proportion to its length, is 
e'arefully plaited, and made to faU with seeming negligence 
over either breast. Her riding hat is stuck full of party-col- 
ored feathers : her robe, fashioned somewhat after that of the 
whites, is of red, green, and sometimes gray cloth, but always 
of the finest texture that can he procured. Her leggins and 
moccasins are of the most beautiful and expensive workman- 
ship, and fitted neatly to the foot and ankle, which with the 
Indian women are generally well formed and delicate. Then 
as to jewelry: in the v/ay of finger-rings, ear-rings, necklaces, 
and other female glories, nothing within reach of the trapper’s 
means is omitted that can tend to impress the beholder with 
an idea of the lady’s high estate. To finish the whole, she se- 
lects from among her blankets of various dyes one of some 
glowing color, and throwing it over her shoulders with a na- 
tive grace, vaults into the saddle of her gay, prancing steed, 
and is ready to follow her mountaineer ‘ to the last gasp with 
love and loyalty.’ ” 

Such is the general picture of the free trapper’s wife, given 
by Captain Bonneville ; how far it applied in its details to the 
one in question does not altogether appear, though it would 
seem from the outset of her connubial career, that she was 
ready to avail herself of all the pomp and circumstance of her 
new condition. It is worthy of mention that wherever there 
are several wives of free trappers in a camp, the keenest rival- 
ry exists between them, to the sore detriment of their hus- 
bands’ purses. Their whole time is expended and their inge- 
nuity tasked by endeavors to eclipse each other in dress and 
decoration. The jealousies and heart-burnings thus occasioned 
among these so-styled children of nature are equally intense 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 99 

with those of the rival leaders of style and fashion in the luxu- 
rious abodes of civilized hfe. 

The genial festival of Christmas, which throughout all Chris- 
tendom lights up the fireside of home with mirth and jollity, 
followed hard upon the wedding just described. Though far 
from kindred and friends, Captain Bonneville and his handful 
of free trappers were not disposed to suffer the festival to pass 
unenjoyed ; they were in a region of good cheer, and were dis- 
posed to be joyous; so it was determined to ‘‘ light up the yule 
clog,” and celebrate a merry Christmas in the heart of tlie 
wilderness. 

On Christmas eve, accordingly, they began their rude fetes 
and rejoicings. In the course of the night the free trappers 
surrounded the lodge of the Pierced-nose chief and in lieu of 
Christmas carols, saluted him with txfeu dejoie. 

Kowsoter received it in a truly Christian spirit, and after a 
speech, in which he expressed his high gratification at the 
honor done him, invited the whole company to a feast on the 
following day. His invitation was gladly accepted. A Christ- 
mas dinner in the wigwam of an Indian chief ! There was nov- 
elty in the idea. Not one failed to be present. The banquet 
was served up in primitive style : skins of various kinds, nicely 
dressed for the occasion, were spread upon the ground ; upon 
these were heaped up abundance of venison, elk meat, and 
mountain mutton, with various bitter roots which the Indians 
Use as condiments. 

After a short prayer, the company all seated themselves 
cross-legged, in Turkish fashion, to the banquet, which passed 
ofi with great hilarity. After which various games of strength 
and agility by both white men and Indians closed the Christ- 
mas festivities. 



100 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XV. 

A HUNT AFTER HUNTERS— HUNGRY TIMES— A VORACIOUS RE- 
PAST-WINTRY WEATHER— GODIN’S RIVER— SPLENDID WINTER 
SCENE ON THE GREAT LAVA PLAIN OF SNAKE RIVER— SEVERE 
TRAVELLING AND TRAMPING IN THE SNOW— MANOEUVRES OF A 
SOLITARY INDIAN HORSEMAN — ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER 
— BANNECK INDIANS — THE HORSE CHIEF — HIS CHARMED LIFE. 

The continued absence of Matthieu and his party had, by this 
time, caused great imeasiness in the mind of Captain Bonne- 
ville ; and, finding there was no dependence to be placed upon 
the perseverance and courage of scouting parties in so perilous 
a quest, he determined to set out himself on the search, and to 
keep on until he should ascertain something of the object of 
his sohcitude. 

Accordingly on the 26th December he left the camp, ac- 
companied by thirteen stark trappers and hunters, all well 
mounted and armed for dangerous enterprise. On the follow- 
ing morning they passed out at the head of the mountain gorge 
and sallied forth into the open plain. As they confidently ex- 
pected a brush with the Blackfeet, or some other predatory 
horde, they moved with great circumspection, and kept vigi- 
lant watch in their encampments. 

In the course of another day they left the main branch of 
Salmon River, and proceeded south toward a pass called John 
Day’s defile. It was severe and arduous travelling. The 
plains were swept by keen and bitter blasts of wintry wind ; 
the ground was generally covered with snow, game was scarce, 
so that hunger generally prevailed in the camp, while the want 
of pasturage soon began to manifest itself in the declining vigor 
of the horses. 

The party had scarcely encamped on the afternoon of the 
28th, when two of the hunters who had sallied forth in quest 
of game came galloping back in great alarm. While hunting 
they had perceived a party of savages, evidently manoeuvring 
to cut them off from the camp ; and nothing had saved them 
from being entrapped but the speed of their horses. 

These tidings struck dismay into the camp. Captain Bonne- 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE, 101 

ville endeavored to reassure his men by representing the posi- 
tion of their encampment, and its capability of defence. He 
then ordered the horses to be driven in and picketed, and 
threw up a rough breastwork of fallen trunks of trees and the 
vegetable rubbish of the wilderness. Within this barrier was 
maintained a vigilant watch throughout the night, which 
passed away without alarm. At early dawn they scrutinized 
the surrounding plain, to discover whether any enemies had 
been lurking about during the night ; not a foot-print, however, 
was to be discovered in the coarse gravel with which the plaiis 
was covered. 

Hunger now began to cause more uneasiness than the appro 
hensions of surrounding enemies. After marching a few mdes 
they encamped at the foot of a mountain, in hopes of hnding 
buffalo. It was not until the next day that they discovered a 
pair of fine bulls on the edge of the plain, among rocKS and ra- 
vines. Having now been two days and a half without a mouth- 
ful of food, they took especial care that these animals should 
not escape them. While some of the surest marksmen ad- 
vanced cautiously with their rifles into the rough ground, four 
of the best mounted horsemen took their stations in the plain, 
to run the bulls down should they only be maimed. 

The buffalo were wounded and set off in headlong flight. 
The half-famished horses were too weak to overtake them on 
the frozen ground, but succeeded in driving them on the ice, 
where they slipped and fell, and were easily dispatched. The 
hunters loaded themselves with beef for present and future 
supply, and then returned and encamped at the last night’s 
fire. Here they passed the remainder of the day, cooking and 
eating with a voracity proportioned to previous starvation, 
f orgetting in the hearty revel of the moment the certain dan- 
gers with which they vrere environed. 

The cravings of hunger being satisfied, they now began to 
debate about their further progress. The men were much dis- 
heartened by the hardships they had already endured. Indeed, 
two who had been in the rear guard, taking advantage of their 
position, had deserted and returned to the lodges of the Nez 
Perces. The prospect ahead was enough to stagger the stout- 
est heart. They were in the dead of winter. As far as the eye 
could reach the wild landscape was wrapped in snow, which 
was evidently deepening as they advanced. Over this they 
would have to toil, with the icy wind blowing in their faces: 
their horses might give out through want of pasturage, and 



102 ADVENT unii:s OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



they themselves must expect intervals of horrible famine hke 
that they had already experienced. 

With Captain Bonneville, however, perseverance was a mat- 
ter of pride ; and, having undertaken this enterprise, nothing 
could turn him back until it was accomplished : though he de- 
clares that, had he anticipated the difficulties and sufferings 
which attended it, he should have flinched from the imdertak- 
ing. 

Onward, therefore, the httle band urged their way, keeping 
along the course of a stream called John Day’s Creek. The 
cold was so intense that they had frequently to dismount and 
travel on foot, lest they should freeze in their saddles. The 
days which at this season are short enough even in the open 
prairies, were narrowed to a few hours by the high mountains, 
which allowed the travellers but a brief enjoyment of the 
cheering rays of the sun. The snow was generally at least 
twenty inches in depth, and in many places much more: those 
who ffismounted had to beat their way with toilsome steps. 
Eight miles were considered a good day’s journey. The horses 
were almost famished; for the herbage was covered by the 
deep snow, so that they had nothing to subsist upon but scanty 
wisps of the dry bunch grass which peered above the surface, 
and the small branches and twigs of frozen willows and worm- 
wood. 

In this way they urged their slow and painful course to the 
south down John Day’s Creek, until it lost itself in a swamp. 
Here they encamped upon the ice among stiffened willows, 
where they were obliged to beat down and clear away the 
snow to procure pasturage for their horses. 

Hence, they toiled on to Godin Eiver ; so called after an Iro- 
quois hunter in the service of Sublette, who was murdered 
there by the Blackfeet. Many of the features of this remote 
wilderness are thus named after scenes of violence and blood- 
shed that occurred to the early pioneers. It was an act of 
filial vengeance on the part of Godin’s son Antoine that, as the 
reader may recollect, brought on the recent battle at Pierre’s 
Hole. 

From Godin’s River, Captain Bonneville and his followers 
came out upon the plain of the Three Butes, so called from 
three singular and isolated hills that rise from the midst. It 
is a part of the great desert of Snake River, one of the most re- 
markable tracts beyond the mountains. Could they have ex- 
perienced a respite from their sufferings and anxieties, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 103 



immense landscape spread out before them was calculated to 
inspire admiration. Winter has its beauties and glories as 
well as summer ; and Captain Bonneville had the soul to ap- 
preciate them. 

Far away, says he, over the vast plains, and up the steep 
sides of the lofty mountains, the snow lay spread in dazzling 
whiteness: and whenever the sun emerged in the morning 
above the giant peaks, or burst forth from among clouds in his 
mid-day course, mountain and dell, glazed rock and frosted 
tree, glov/ed and sparkled Avith surpassing lustre. The tall 
pines seemed sprinkled with a silver dust, and the willows, 
studded with minute icicles reflecting the prismatic rays, 
brought to mind the fairy trees conjured up by the cahph’s 
story-teller to adorn his vale of diamonds. 

The poor Avanderers, however, nearly starved with hunger 
and cold, Avere in no mood to enjoy the glories of these brilliant 
scenes; though they stamped pictures, on their memory which 
have been recalled with delight in more genial situations. 

Encamping at the west Bute, they found a place swept by 
the winds, so that it was bare of snow, and there Avas abun- 
dance of bunch grass. Here the horses Avere turned loose to 
graze throughout the night. Though for once they had ample 
pasturage, yet the keen Avinds were so intense that, in the 
morning, a mule was found frozen to death. The trappers gath' 
ered round and mourned over him as over a cherished friend. 
They feared their half-famished horses would soon share 
his fate, for there seemed scarce blood enough left in their 
veins to Avithstand the freezing cold. To beat the way further 
through the snow with these enfeebled animals seemed next to 
impossible ; and despondency began to creep over their hearts, 
when, fortunately, they discovered a trail made by some hunt- 
ing party. Into this they immediately entered, and proceeded 
AAuth less difficulty. Shortly afterward, a fine buffalo bull 
came bounding across the snow and Avas instantly brought 
down by the hunters. A fire was soon blazing and crackling, 
and an ample repast soon cooked, and sooner dispatched ; after 
which they made some further progress and then encamped. 
One of the men reached the camp nearly frozen to death ; but 
good cheer and a blazing fire gradually restored life, and put 
his blood in circulation. 

Having now a beaten patli, they proceeded the next morning 
with more facility; indeed, the snow decreased in depth as 
they receded from the mountains, and the temperature became 



104 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



more mild. In the course of the day they discovered a solh 
tary horseman hovering at a distance before them on the 
plain. They spurred on to overtake him; but he was better 
mounted on a fresher steed, and kept at a wary distance, re- 
connoitring them with evident distrust ; for the wild dress of 
the free trappers, their leggins, blankets, and cloth caps gar- 
nished with fur and topped off with feathers, even their very 
elf-locks and weather-bronzed complexions, gave them the 
look of Indians rather than white men, and made him mistake 
them for a war party of some hostile tribe. 

After much manoeuvring, the wild horseman was at length 
brought to a parley ; but even then he conducted himself with 
the caution of a knowing prowler of the prairies. Dismount- 
ing from his horse, and using him as a breastwork, he levelled 
his gun across his back, and, thus prepared for defence like a 
wary cruiser upon the high seas, he permitted himself to be 
approached within speaking distance. 

He proved to be an Indian of the Banneck tribe, belonging 
to a band at no great distance. It was some time before he 
could be persuaded that he was conversing with a party of 
white men, and induced to lay aside his reserve and join them. 
He then gave them the interesting intelligence that there were 
two companies of white men encamped in the neighborhood. 
This was cheering news to Captain Bonneville ; who hoped to 
find in one of them the long-sought party of Matthieu. Push- 
ing forward, therefore, with renovated spirits, he reached 
Snake Eiver by nightfall, and there fixed his encampment. 

Early the next morning (13th January, 1833), diligent search 
was made about the neighborhood for traces of the reported 
parties of white men. An encampment was soon discovered 
about four miles further up the river, in which Captain Bonne- 
ville to his great joy found two of Matthieu’s men, from whom 
he learned that the rest of his party would be there in the 
course of a few days. It was a matter of great pride and self- 
gratulation to Captain Bonneville that he had thus accom- 
plished his dreary and doubtful enterprise ; and he determined 
to pass some time in this encampment, both to await the return 
of Matthieu, and to give needful repose to men and horses. 

It was, in fact, one of the most eligible and delightful winter- 
ing grounds in that whole range of country. The Snake River 
here wound its devious way between low banks through the 
great plain of the Three Butes ; and was bordered by wide and 
fertile meadows. It was studded with islands which, like the 



ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 105 



alluvial bottoms, were covered with groves of cotton-wood, 
thickets of willow, tracts of good lowland grass, and abundance 
of green rushes. The adjacent plains were so vast in extent 
that no single band of Indians could drive the buffalo out of 
them ; nor was the snow of sufficient depth to give any serious 
inconvenience. Indeed, during the sojourn of Captain Bonne- 
ville in this neighborhood, which was in the heart of winter, 
lie found the weather, with the exception of a few cold and 
stormy days, generally mild and pleasant, freezing a little at 
night but invariably thawing with the morning’s sun — resem- 
bling the spring weather in the middle parts of the United 
States. 

The lofty range of the Three Tetons, those great landmarks 
of the Rocky Mountains rising in the east and circling away to 
the north and west of the great plain of Snake River, and the 
mountains of Salt River and Portneuf toward the south, catch 
the earliest falls of snow. Their white robes lengthen as the 
winter advances, and spread themselves far into the plain, 
driving the buffalo in herds to the banks of the river in quest 
of food ; where they are easily slain in great numbers. 

Such were the palpable advantages of this winter encamp- 
ment ; added to which, it was secure from the prowlings and 
plunderings of any petty band of roving Blackfeet, the diffi- 
culties of retreat rendering it unwise for those crafty depre- 
dators to venture an attack unless with an overpowering 
force. 

About ten miles below the encampment lay the Banneck 
Indians; numbering about one hundred and twenty lodges. 
They are brave and cunning warriors and deadly foes of the 
Blackfeet, whom they easily overcome in battles where their 
forces are equal. They are not vengeful and enterprising in 
warfare, however; seldom sending war parties to attack the 
Blackfeet towns, but contenting themselves with defending 
their own territories and house. About one third of their war- 
riors are armed with fusees, the rest with bows and arrows. 

As soon as the spring opens they move down the right bank 
of Snake River and encamp at the heads of the Boisee and 
Payette. Here their horses wax fat on good pasturage, while 
the tribe revels in plenty upon the flesh of deer, elk, bear, and 
beaver. They then descend a little further, and are met by the 
Lower Nez Perces, with whom they trade for horses ; giving in 
exchange beaver, buffalo, and buffalo robes. Hence they strike 
upon the tributary streams on the left bank of Snake River, 



106 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



and encamp at the rise of the Portneuf and Blackfoot streams, 
in the buffalo range. Their horses, although of the Nez Perce 
breed, are inferior to the parent stock from being ridden at too 
early an age, being often bought when but two years old and 
immediately put to hard work. They have fewer horses, also, 
than most of these migratory tribes. 

At the time that Captain Bonneville came into the neigh- 
borhood of these Indians, they were all in mourning for their 
chief, sumamed The Horse. This chief was said to possess a 
charmed life, or rather, to be invulnerable to lead; no buUet 
having ever hit him, though he had been in repeated battles, 
and often shot at by the surest marksmen. He had shown 
great magnanimity in his intercourse with the white men. 
One of the great men of his family had been slain in an attack 
upon a band of trappers passing through the territories of his 
tribe. Vengeance had been sworn by the Bannecks; but The 
Horse interfered, declaring himself the friend of white men 
and, having great influence and authority among his people, he 
compelled them to forego all vindictive plans and to conduct 
themselves amicably whenever they came in contact with the 
traders. 

This chief had bravely fallen in resisting an attack* made by 
the Blackfeet upon his tribe, while encamped at the head of 
Godin River. His fall in nowise lessened the faith of his people 
in his charmed life ; for they declared that it was not a bullet 
which laid him low, but a bit of horn which had been shot into 
him by some Blackfoot marksman aware, no doubt, of the in- 
efflcacy of lead. Since his death there was no one with suffi* 
ciert influence over the tribe to restrain the wild and predatory 
propensities of the young men. The consequence was they had 
become troublesome and dangerous neighbors, openly friendly 
for the sake of trafiic, but disposed to commit secret depreda- 
tions and to molest any small party that might fall within 
their reach. 



AVVEMTUEE8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

MISADVENTURES OP MATTHIEU AND HIS PARTY— RETURN TO THE 
CACHES AT SALMON RIVER— BATTLE BETWEEN NEZ PERCfcS 
AND BLACKFEET— HEROISM OP A NEZ PERC^3 WOMAN— EN- 
ROLLED AMONG THE BRAVES. 

On the 3d of February Matthieu, with the residue of his band, 
arrived in camp. He had a disastrous story to relate. After 
parting with Captain Bonneville in Green River valley he had 
proceeded to the westward, keeping to the north of the Eutaw 
Mountains, a spur of the great Rocky chain. Here he experu 
enced the most rugged travelling for his horses, and soon diS' 
covered that there was but little chance of meeting the Sho- 
shonie bands. He now proceeded along Bear River, a stream 
much frequented by trappers, intending to shape his course to 
Salmon River to rejoin Captain Bonneville. 

He was misled, however, either through the ignorance or 
treachery of an Indian guide, and conducted into a wild valley 
where he lay encamped during the autumn and the early part 
of the winter, nearly buried in snow and almost starved. 
Early in the season he detached five men, with nine horses, to 
proceed to the neighborhood of the Sheep Rock, on Bear 
River, where game was plenty, and there to procure a supply 
for the camp. They had not proceeded far on their expedition 
when their trail was discovered by a party of nine or ten In- 
dians, who immediately commenced a lurking pursuit, dogging 
them secretly for five or six days. So long as their encamp- 
ments were well chosen and a proper watch maintained the 
wary savages kept aloof ; at length, observing that they were 
badly encamped, in a situation where they might be approached 
with secrecy, the enemy crept stealthily along under cover of 
the river bank, preparing to burst suddenly upon their prey. 

They had not advanced within striking distance, however, 
before they were discovered by one of the trappers. He im- 
mediately but silently gave the alarm to his companions. 
They all sprang upon their horses and prepared to retreat to a 
safe position. One of the party, however, named Jennings, 
doubted the correctness of the alarm, and before he mounted 
his horse wanted to ascertain the fact. His companions urered 



108 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



him to mount, but in vain; he was incredulous and obstinate. 
A volley of firearms by the savages dispelled his doubts, but 
so overpowered his nerves that he was unable to get into his 
saddle. His comrades, seeing his peril and confusion, gener- 
ously leaped from their horses to protect him. A shot from a 
rifle brought him to the earth ; in his agony he called upon the 
others not to desert him. Two of them, Le Roy and Ross, 
after fighting desperately, were captured by the savages ; the 
remaining two vaulted into their saddles and saved themselves 
by headlong flight, being pursued for nearly thirty miles. 
They got safe back to Matthieu’s camp, 'where their story in- 
spired such dread of lurking Indians that the hunters could 
not be prevailed upon to undertake another foray in quest of 
provisions. They remained, therefore, almost starving in 
their camp ; now and then killing an old or disabled horse for 
food, while the elk and the mountain sheep roamed unmo- 
lested among the surrounding mountains. 

The disastrous surprisal of this hunting party is cited by 
Captain Bonneville to show the importance of vigilant watch- 
ing and judicious encampments in the Indian country. Most 
of this kind of disasters to traders and trappers arise from 
some careless inattention to the state of their arms and ammu- 
nition, the placing of their horses at night, the position of their 
camping ground, and the posting of their night watches. The 
Indian is a vigilant and crafty foe, by no means given to hair- 
brained assaults ; he seldom attacks when he finds his foe well 
prepared and on the alert. Caution is at least as efficacious a 
protection against him as courage. 

The Indians who made this attack were at first supposed to 
be Blackfeet ; until Captain Bonneville found subsequently, in 
the camp of the Bannecks, a horse, saddle, and bridle, which 
he recognized as having belonged to one of the hunters. The 
Bannecks, however, stoutly denied having taken these spoils 
in fight, and persisted in affirming that the outrage had been 
perpetrated by a Blackfoot band. 

Captain Bonneville remained on Snake River nearly three 
weeks after the arrival of Matthieu and his party. At length 
his horses having recovered strength sufficient for a journey, 
he prepared to return to the Nez Perces, or rather to visit his 
caches on Salmon River ; that he might take thence goods and 
equipments for the opening season. Accordingly, leaving six- 
teen men at Snake River, he set out on the 19th of February 
with sixteen others on his journey to the caches. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 109 

Fording the river, he proceeded to the borders of the deep 
snow, when he encamped under the lee of immense piles of 
burned rock. On the 21st. he was again floundering through 
the snow, on the great Snake River plain, whore it lay to the 
depth of thirty inches. It was sufficiently incrusted to bear a 
pedestrian, but the poor horses broke through the crust, and 
plunged and strained at every step. So lacerated v/ere they 
by the ice that it was necessary to change the front every 
hundred yards, and put a different one in advance to break 
the way. The open prairies were swept by a piercing and 
biting wind from the northwest. At night, they had to task 
their ingenuity to provide shelter and keep from freezing. In 
the first place, they dug deep holes in the snow, piling it up in 
ramparts to windward as a protection against the blast. Be- 
neath these they spread buffalo skins, upon which they 
stretched themselves in full dress, with caps, cloaks, and moc- 
casins, and covered themselves with numerous blankets ; not- 
withstanding all which they were often severely pinched with 
the cold. 

On the 28th of February they arrived on the banks of Godin 
River. This stream emerges from the mountains opposite an 
eastern branch of the Malade River, running southeast, forms 
a deep and swift current about twenty yards wide, passing 
rapidly through a defile to which it gives its name, and then 
enters the great plain where, after meandering about forty 
miles, it is finally lost in the region of the Burned Rocks. 

On the banks of this river Captain Bonneville was so fortu- 
nate as to come upon a buffalo trail. Following it up, he en- 
tered the defile, where he remained encamped for two days to 
allow the hunters time to kill and dry a supply of buffalo beef. 
In this sheltered defile the weather was moderate and grass 
was already sprouting more than an inch in height. There 
was abundance, too, of the salt weed which grows most plen- 
tiful in clayey and gravelly barrens. It resembles pennyroyal, 
and derives its name from a partial saltness. It is a nourish- 
ing food for the horses in the winter, but they reject it the 
moment the young grass affords sufficient pasturage. 

On the 6th of March, having cured sufficient meat, the party 
resumed their march, and moved on with comparative ease, 
excepting where they had to make their way through snow- 
drifts which had been piled up by the wind. 

On the 11th, a small cloud of smoke was observed rising in a 
deep part of the defile, An encampment was instanth^ formed 



ilO ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



and scouts were sent out to reconnoitre. They returned with 
intelligence that it was a hunting party of Flatheads, return- 
ing from the buffalo range laden with meat. Captain Bonne- 
ville joined them the next day, and persuaded them to pro- 
ceed with his party a few miles below to the caches, whither 
he proposed also to invite the Nez Perces, whom he hoped to 
find somewhere in this neigi borhood. In fact, on the 13th, he 
was rejoined by that friendly tribe who, since he separated 
from them on Salmon River, had likewise been out to hunt 
the buffalo, but had continued to be haunted and harassed by 
their old enemies the Blackfeet, who, as usual, had contrived 
to carry off many of their horses. 

In the course of this hunting expedition, a small band of ten 
lodges separated from the main body in search of better pas- 
turage for their horses. About the 1st of March, the scattered 
parties of Blackfoot banditti united to the number of three 
hundred fighting men, and determined upon some signal blow. 
Proceeding to the former camping ground of the Nez Perces, 
they found the lodges deserted ; upon which they hid them- 
selves among the willows and thickets, watching for some 
straggler who might guide them to the present “ whereabout” 
of their intended victims. As fortune would have it Kosato, 
the Blackfoot renegade, was the first to pass along, accom- 
panied by his blood-bought bride. He was on his way from 
the main body of hunters to the little band of ten lodges. The 
Blackfeet knew and marked him as he passed ; he was within 
bowshot of their ambuscade; yet, much as they thirsted for 
his blood, they forbore to launch a shaft ; sparing him for the 
moment that he might lead them to their prey. Secretly fol- 
lowing his trail, they discovered the lodges of the unfortunate 
Nez Perces, and assailed them with shouts and yellings. The 
Nez Perces numbered only twenty men, and but nine were 
armed with fusees. They showed themselves, however, as 
brave and skilful in war as they had been mild and long-suf- 
fering in peace. Their first care was to dig holes inside of 
their lodges ; thus ensconced they fought desperately, laying 
several of the enemy dead upon the ground; while they, 
though some of them were wounded, lost not a single warrior. 

During the heat of the battle, a woman of the Nez Perces, 
seeing her warrior badly wounded and unable to fight, seized 
his bow and arrows, and bravely and successfully defended his 
person, contributing to the safety of the whole party. 

In another part of the field of action, a Nez Perce had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. \\\ 

crouched behind the trunk of a fallen tree, and kept up a gall- 
ing fire from his covert. A Blackfoot seeing this, procured a 
round log, and placing it before him as he lay prostrate, rolled 
it forward toward the trunk of the tree behind which his enemy 
lay crouched. It was a moment of breathless interest; who- 
ever first showed himself would be in danger of a shot. The 
Nez Perce put an end to the suspense. The moment the logs 
touched he sprang upon his feet and discharged the contents 
of his fusee into the back of his antagonist. By this time the 
Blackfeet had got possession of the horses, several of their war- 
riors lay dead on the field, and the Nez Perces, ensconced in 
their lodges, seemed resolved to defend themselves to the last 
gasp. It so happened that the chief of the Blackfeet party v/as 
a renegade from the Nez Perces ; unlike Kosato, however, he 
had no vindictive rage against his native tribe, but was rather 
disposed, now he had got the booty, to spare all unnecessa-ry 
effusion of blood. He held a long parley, therefore, with the 
besieged, and finally drew off his warriors, taking with him 
seventy horses. It appeared, afterward, that the bullets of the 
Blackfeet had been entirely expended in the course of the bat- 
tle, so that they were obliged to make use of stones as substi- 
tute. 

At the outset of the fight Kosato, the renegade, fought with 
fury rather than valor, animating the others by word as well 
as deed. A wound in the head from a rifle ball laid him sense- 
less on the earth. There his body remained when the battle 
was over, and the victors were leading off the horses. His wife 
hung over him with frantic lamentations. The concpierors 
paused and urged her to leave the lifeless renegade, and return 
with them to her kindred. She refused to listen to their solici- 
tations, and they passed on. As she sat watching the features 
of Kosato, and giving way to passionate grief, she thought she 
perceived him to breathe. She was not mistaken. The ball, 
which had been nearly spent before it struck him, had stunned 
instead of killing him. By the ministry of his faithful wife he 
gradually recovered, reviving to a redoubled love for her, and 
hatred of his tribe. 

As to the female who had so bravely defended her husband, 
she was elevated by the tribe to a rank far above her sex. and 
beside other honorable distinctions, was thenceforward per- 
mitted to take a part in the war dances of the braves ! 



112 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CHAPTER XVII. 

OPENING OF THE CACHES— DETACHMENTS OF CERRE AND HODG^ 

KISS— SALMON RIVER MOUNTAINS— SUPERSTITION OF AN INDIAN 

TRAPPER — Godin’s river — preparations for trapping — an 

ALARM — AN INTERRUPTION— A RIVAL BAND —PHENOMENA OF 

SNAKE RIVER PLAIN— VAST CLEFTS AND CHASMS— INGULFED 

STREAMS— SUBLIME SCENERY— A GRAND BUFFALO HUNT. 

Captain Bonneville found his caches perfectly secure, and 
having escretly opened them he selected such articles as were 
necessary to equip the free trappers and to supply the incon- 
siderable trade with the Indians, after which he closed them 
again. The free trappers, being newly rigged out and supplied, 
were in high spirits, and swaggered gayly about the camp. To 
compensate all hands for past sufferings, and to give a cheer- 
ful spur to further operations, Captain Bonneville now gave 
the men what, in frontier phrase, is termed ‘ ‘ a regular blow 
out.” It was a day of uncouth gambols and frolics and rude 
feasting. The Indians joined in the sports and games, and all 
was mirth and good-fellowship. 

It was now the middle of March, and Captain Bonneville 
made preparations to open the spring campaign. He had 
pitched upon Malade River for his main trapping ground for 
the season. This is a stream which rises among the great bed 
of mountains north of the Lava Plain, and after a winding 
course falls into Siiake River. Previous to his departure the 
captain dispatched Mr. Cerre, with a few men, to visit the 
Indian villages and purchase horses; he furnished his clerk, 
Mr. Hodgkiss, also, with a small stock of goods, to keep up a 
trade with the Indians during the spring, for such peltries as 
they might collect, appointing the caches on Salmon River as 
the point of rendezvous, where they were to rejoin him on the 
15th of June following. 

This done he set out for Malade River, with a band of twenty- 
eight men composed of hired and free trappers and Indian 
hunters, together with eight squaws. Their route lay up along 
the right fork of Salmon River, as it passes through the deep 
defile of the mountains. They travelled very slowly^ not above 
five miles a day, for many of the horses were so weak that they 



ABVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. H3 



faltered and staggered as they walked. Pasturage, however, 
was now growing plentiful. There was abundance of fresh 
grass, which in some places had attained such height as to 
wave in the wind. The native flocks of the wilderness, the 
mountain sheep, as they are called by the trappers, were con- 
tinually to be seen upon the hills between which they passed , 
and a good supply of mutton was provided by the hunters, as 
they were advancing toward a region of scarcity. 

In the course of his journey Captain Bonneville had occasion 
to remark an instance of the many notions, and almost super- 
stitions, which prevail among the Indians, and among some of 
the white men, with respect to the sagacity of the beaver. 
The Indian hunters of his party were in the habit of exploring 
all the streams along which they passed, in search of “ beaver 
lodges,” and occasionally set their traps with some success. 
One of them, however, though an experienced and skilful trap- 
per, was invariably unsuccessful. Astonished and mortified at 
such unusual bad luck, he at length conceived the idea that 
there was some odor about his person of which the beaver got 
scent and retreated at his approach. He immediately set about 
a thorough purification. Making a rude sweating-house on the 
banks of the river, he would shut himself up until in a reeking 
perspiration, and then suddenly emerging, would plunge into 
the river. A number of these sweatings and plungings having, 
as he supposed, rendered his person perfectly “inodorous,” he 
resumed his trapping with renovated hope. 

About the beginning of April they encamped upon Godin’s 
Eiver, where they found the swamp full of “ musk-rat houses.” 
Here, therefore, Captain Bonneville determined to remain a 
few days and make his first regular attempt at trapping. That 
his maiden campaign might open with spirit, he promised the 
Indians and free trappers an extra price for every musk-rat 
they should take. All now set to woik for the next day’s sport. 
The utmost animation and gayety prevailed throughout the 
camp. Everything looked auspicious for their spring campaign. 
The abundance of musk-rats in the swamp was but an earnest 
of the nobler game they were to find when they should reach 
the Malade Eiver, and have a capital beaver country all to 
themselves, where they might trap at their leisure without 
molestation. 

In the midst of their gayety a hunter came galloping into 
the camp, shouting, or rather yelling, “A trail! a trail t 
lodge poles ! lodge poles !” 



114 ADVENT (TEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

These were words full of meaning to a trapper’s ear. They 
intimated that there was some band in the neighborhood, and 
probably a hunting party, as they had lodge poles for an en- 
campment. The hunter came up and told his story. He had 
discovered a fresh trail, in which the traces made by the drag- 
ging of lodge poles were distinctly visible. The buffalo, too, 
had just been driven out of the neighborhood, which showed 
that the hunters had already been on the range. 

The gayety of the camp was at an end ; all preparations for 
musk-rat trapping were suspended, and all hands sallied forth 
to examine the trail. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. 
Infallible signs showed the unknown party in the advance to be 
white men ; doubtless, some rival band of trappers ! Here was 
competition when least expected; and that too by a party 
already in the advance, who were driving the game before 
them. Captain Bonneville had now a taste of the sudden tran- 
sitions to which a trapper’s life is subject. The buoyant confi- 
dence in an uninterrupted hunt was at an end ; every counte- 
nance lowered with gloom and disappointment. 

Captain Bonneville immediately dispatched two spies to over- 
take the rival party, and endeavor to learn their pJans; in the 
meantime, he turned his back upon the swamp and its musk- 
rat houses and followed on at ‘ ‘ long camps, ” which in trapper’s 
language is equivalent to long stages. On the 6th of April he 
met his spies returning. They had kept on the trail like hounds 
until they overtook the party at the south end of Godin’s defile. 
Here they found them comfortably encamped: twenty-two 
prime trappers, all well appointed, with excellent horses in 
capital condition led by ]\Iilton Sublette, and an able coadjutor 
named Jarvie, and in full march for the Malade hunting ground. 
This was stunning news. The Malade Eiver was the only trap- 
ping ground within reach ; but to have to compete there with 
veteran trappers, perfectly at home among the mountains, and 
admirably mounted, while they were so poorly provided with 
horses and trappers, and had but one man in their party ac- 
quainted with the country — it v/as out of the question. 

The only hope that now remained was that the snow, which 
still lay deep among the mountains of Godin Eiver and blocked 
up the usual pass to the Malade country, might detain the other 
party until Captain Bonneville’s horses should get once more 
into good condition in their present ample pasturage. 

The rival parties now encamped together, not out of com- 
panionship, but to keep an eye upon each other. Pay after 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, H5 

day passed by without any possibility of getting to the Malade 
country. Sublette and Jarvie endeavored to force their way 
across the mountain ; but the snows lay so deep as to oblige 
them to turn back. In the meantime the captain’s horses were 
daily gaining strength, and their hoofs improving, which had 
been worn and battered by mountain service. The captain, 
also, was increasing his stock of provisions ; so that the delay 
was all in his favor. 

To any one who merely contemplates a map of the country 
this difficulty of getting from Godin to Malade Eiver will ap- 
pear inexplicable, as the intervening mountains terminate in 
the great Snake Eiver plain, so that, apparently, it would be 
perfectly easy to proceed round their bases. 

Here, however, occur some of the striking phenomena of 
this wild and sublime region. The great lower plain which ex- 
tends to the feet of these mountains is broken up near their 
bases into crests, and ridges resembling the surges of the ocean 
breaking on a rocky shore. 

In a line with the mountains the plain is gashed with numer- 
ous and dangerous chasms, from four to ten feet wide, and of 
great depth. Captain Bonneville attempted to sound some of 
these openings, but without any satisfactory result. A stone 
dropped into one of them reverberated against the sides for 
apparently a very great depth, and, by its sound, indicated the 
same kind of substance with the surface, as long as the strokes 
could be heard. The horse, instinctively sagacious in avoiding 
danger, shrinks back in alarm from the least of these chasms, 
pricking up his ears, snorting and pawing, until permitted to 
turn away. 

We have been told by a person well acquainted with the 
country that it is sometimes necessary to travel fifty and sixty 
miles to get round one of these tremendous ravines. Consider- 
able streams, like that of Godin’s Eiver, that run with a bold, 
free current, lose themselves in this plain ; some of them end 
in swamps, others suddenly disappear, finding, no doubt, sub- 
terranean outlets. 

Opposite to these chasms Snake Eiver makes two desperate 
leaps over precipices, at a short distance from each other; one 
twenty, the other forty feet in height. 

The volcanic plain in question forms an area of about sixty 
miles in diameter, where nothing meets the eye but a desolate 
and awful waste ; where no grass grows nor water runs, amd 
where nothing is to be seen but lava, Eanges of mountains 



M6 adventures of captain BONNEVILLE 



skirt this plain, and, in Captain Bonneville’s opinion, were 
formerly connected, until rent asunder by some convulsion of 
nature. Far to the east the Three Tetons lift their heads sub- 
limely, and dominate this vvide sea of lava— one of the most 
striking features of a wilderness where everything seems on a 
scale of stern and simple grandeur. 

We look forward with impatience for some able geologist to 
explore this subhme but almost unknown region. 

It was not until the 25th of April that the two parties of 
trappers broke up their encampments, and undertook to cross 
over the southwest end of the mountain by a pass explored by 
their scouts. From various points cf the mountain they com- 
manded boundless prospects of the lava plain, stretching away 
in cold and gloomy barrenness as far as the eye could reach. 
On the evening of the 26th they reached the plain west of the 
mountain, watered by the Malade, the Boisee, and other 
streams, which comprised the contemplated trapping-ground. 

The country about the Boisee (or Woody) Eiver is extolled 
by Captain Bonneville as the most enchanting he had seen in 
the Far West, presenting the mingled grandeur and beauty of 
mountain and plain, of bright running streams and vast grassy 
meadows waving to the breeze. 

We shall not follow the captain throughout his trapping 
campaign, which lasted until the beginning of June, nor detail 
all the manoeuvres of the rival trapping parties and their vari- 
ous schemes to outwit and out-trap each other. Suffice it to 
say that, after having visited and camped about various 
streams with various success, Captain Bonneville set forward 
early in June for the appointed rendezvous at the caches. On 
the way, he treated his party to a grand buffalo hunt. The 
scouts had reported numerous herds in a plain beyond an in- 
tervening height. There was an immediate halt ; the fleetest 
horses were forthwith mounted and the party advanced to the 
summit of the hill. Hence they beheld the great plain below 
absolutely swarming with buffalo. Captain Bonneville now 
appointed the place where he would encamp; and toward 
which the hunters were to drive the game. He cautioned the 
latter to advance slowly, reserving the strength and speed of 
the horses until within a moderate distance of the herds. 
Twenty-two horsemen descended cautiously into the plain, 
conformably to these directions. ‘ ‘ It was a beautiful sight, ” 
says the captain, ‘‘to see the runners, as they are called, ad- 
vancing in column, at a slow trot, until within two hundred 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLR. 117 



and fifty yards of the outskirts of the herd, then dashing on at 
full speed until lost in the immense multitude oi bufialoes 
scouring the plain in every direction.” All was now tumult 
and wild confusion. In the meantime Captain Bonneville and 
the residue of the party moved on to the appointed camping 
ground; thither the most expert runners succeeded in driving 
numbers of buffalo, which were killed hard by the camp, and 
the flesh transported thither without difficulty. In a little 
while the whole camp looked like one great slaughter-house ; 
the carcasses were skilfully cut up, great fires were made, 
scaffolds erected for drying and jerking beef, and an ample 
provision was made for future subsistence. On the 15th of 
June, the precise day appointed for the rendezvous. Captain 
Bonneville and his party arrived safely at the caches. 

Here he was joined by the other detachments of his main 
party, all in good health and spirits. The caches were again 
opened, supplies of various kinds taken out, and a hberal 
allowance of aqua vitce distributed throughout the camp, to 
celebrate with proper conviviahty this merry meeting. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

MEETING WITH HODGKISS— MISFORTUNES OF THE NEZ PERCES- 
SCHEMES OF KOSATO, THE RENEGADO— HIS FORAY INTO THE 
HORSE PRAIRIE — INVASION OF BLAOKFEET— BLUE JOHN AND 
HIS FORLORN HOPE— THEIR GENEROUS ENTERPRISE— THEIR FATE 
— CONSTERNATION AND DESPAIR OF THE VILLAGE — SOLEMN 
OBSEQUIES— ATTEMPT AT INDIAN TRADE— HUDSON’S BAY COM- 
PANY’S MONOPOLY — ARRANGEMENTS FOR AUTUMN — BREAKING 
UP OF AN ENCAMPMENT. 

Having now a pretty strong party, well armed and equipped, 
Captain Bonneville no longer felt the necessity of fortifying 
himself in the secret places and fastnesses of the mountains ; 
but sallied forth boldly into the Snake River plain, in search 
of his clerk, Hodgkiss, who had remained with the Nez Perces. 
He found him on the 24th of June, and learned from him an- 
other chapter of misfortunes which had recently befallen that 
ill-fated race. 

After the departure of Captain Bonneville in March, Kosato. 



118 ADVEJSTVliES OE CAPTAliY EONlSEVlLLE, 

the renegade Blackfoot, had recovered from the wound re- 
ceived in battle ; and with his strength revived ull his deadly 
hostility to his native tribe. He now resumed his efforts to 
stir up the Nez Perces to reprisals upon their old enemies; re- 
minding them incessantly of all the outrages and robberies 
they had recently experienced, and assuring them that such 
would continue to be their lot until they proved themselves 
men by some signal retaliation. 

The impassioned eloquence of the desperado at length pro- 
duced an effect ; and a band of braves enlisted under his guid- 
ance, to penetrate into the Blackfoot country, harass their vil- 
lages, carry off their horses, and commit all kinds of depreda- 
tions. 

Kosato pushed forward on his foray as far as the Horse 
Prairie, where he came upon a strong party of Blackfeet. 
Without waiting to estimate their force, he attacked them 
with characteristic fury, and was bravely seconded by his 
followers. The contest, for a time, was hot and bloody; at 
length, as is customary with these two tribes, they paused, and 
held a long parley*, or rather a war of words. 

“What need,” said the Blackfoot chief, tauntingly, “have 
the Nez Perces to leave their homes, and sally forth on war 
parties, when they have danger enough at their own doors? If 
you want fighting, return to your villages; you will have 
plenty of it there. The Blackfeet warriors have hitherto made 
war upon you as children. They are now coming as men. A 
great force is at hand ; they are on their way to your towns, 
and are determined to rub out the very name of the Nez 
Perces from the mountains. Return, I say, to your towns, 
and fight there, if you wish to live any longer as a people.” 

Kosato took him at his word ; for he knew the character ot 
his native tribe. Hastening back with his band to the Ne;5 
Perces village, he told all that he had seen and heard, ana 
urged the most prompt and strenuous measures for defence. 
The Nez Perces, however, heard him with their accustomed 
phlegm; the threat of the Blackfeet had been often made, and 
as often had proved a mere bravado ; such they pronounced it 
to be at present, and, of course, took no precautions. 

They were soon convinced that it was no empty menace. In 
a few days a band of three hundred Blackfeet warriors ap- 
peared upon the hills. All now was consternation in the 
village. The force of the Nez Perces was too small to cope with 
the enemy in open fight ; many of the young men having gone 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. HO 



to their relatives on the Columbia to procure horses. The sage^j 
met in hurried council. What was to he done to ward off a 
blow which threatened annihilation? In this moment of im- 
minent peril, a Pierced-nose chief, named Blue John by the 
whites, offered to approach secretly with a small, but chosen 
band, through a defile which led to the encami^ment of the 
enemy, and, by a sudden onset, to drive off the horses. Should 
this blow be successful, the spirit and strength of the invaders 
would be broken, and the Nez Perces, having horses, would be 
more than a match for them. Should it fail, the village would 
not be worse off than at present, when destruction appeared 
inevitable. 

Twenty-nine of the choicest warriors instantly volunteered 
to follow Blue John in this hazardous enterprise. They pre- 
pared for it with the solemnity and devotion peculiar to the 
tribe. Blue John consulted his medicine, or talismanic charm, 
such as every chief keeps in his lodge as a supernatural pro- 
tection. The oracle assured him that his enterprise would be 
completely successful, provided no rain should fall before he 
had passed through the defile; but should it rain, his band 
would be utterly cut off. 

The day was clear and bright; and Blue John anticipated 
that the skies would be propitious. He departed in 'high 
spirits with his forlorn hope; and never did band of braves 
make a more gallant display — horsemen and horses being dec- 
orated and equipped in the fiercest and most- glaring style- 
glittering with arms and ornaments, and fluttering with 
feathers. 

The weather continued serene until they reached the defile; 
but just as they were entering it a black cloud rose over the 
mountain crest, and there was a sudden shov/er. The warriors 
turned to their leader, as if to read his opinion of this unlucky 
omen; but the countenance of Blue John remained unchanged, 
and they continued to press forward. It was their hope to 
make their way undiscovered to the very vicinity of the Black- 
foot camp ; but they had not proceeded far in the defile, when 
they met a scouting party of the enemy. They attacked and 
drove them among the hills, and were pursuing them with 
great eagerness when they heard shouts and yells behind them, 
and beheld the main body of the Blackfeet advancing. 

The second chief wavered a little at the sight and proposed 
an instant retreat. “We came to fight!” replied Blue John, 
sternly. Then giving his war-whoop, he sprang forward to 



120 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

the conflict. His braves followed him. They made a head- 
long charge upon the enemy; not with the hope of victory, 
but the determination to sell their lives dearly.^ A frightful 
carnage, rather than a regular battle, succeeded. The forlorn 
band laid heaps of their enemies dead at their feet, but were 
overwhelmed with numbers and pressed into a gorge of the 
mountain ; where they continued to fight until they were cut 
to pieces. One only, of the thirty, survived. He sprang on 
the horse of a Blackfoot warrior whom he had slain, and escap- 
ing at full speed, brought home the baleful tidings to his 
village. 

Who can paint the horror and desolation of the inhabitants? 
The flower of their warriors laid low, and a ferocious enemy at 
their doors. The air was rent by the shrieks and lamentations 
of the women, who, casting off their ornaments and tearing 
their hair, wandered about, frantically bewailing the dead 
and predicting destruction to the living. The remaining war- 
riors armed themselves for obstinate defence; but showed by 
their gloomy looks and sullen silence that they considered de- 
fence hopeless. To their surprise the Blackfeet refrained from 
pursuing their advantage; perhaps satisfied with the blood 
already shed, or disheartened by the loss they had themselves 
sustained. At any rate, they disappeared from the hills, and 
it was soon ascertained that they had returned to the Horse 
Prairie. 

The unfortunate Nez Perces now began once more to breathe. 
A few of their warriors, taking pack-horses, repaired to the 
defile to bring away the bodies of their slaughtered brethren. 
They found them mere headless trunks; and the wounds with 
which they were covered showed how bravely they had 
fought. Their hearts, too, had been torn out and carried off ; 
a proof of their signal valor ; for in devouring the heart of a 
foe renowned for bravery, or who has distinguished himself in 
battle, the Indian victor thinks he appropriates to himself the 
courage of the deceased. 

Gathering the mangled bodies of the slain, and strapping 
them across their pack-horses, the warriors returned, in dis- 
mal procession, to the village. The tribe , came forth to meet 
them; the women with piercing cries and wailings; the men 
with downcast countenances, in which gloom and sorrow 
seemed fixed as if in marble. The mutilated and almost undis- 
tinguishable bodies were placed in rows upon the ground, in 
the midst of the assemblage; and the scene of heart-rending 



ABVEJSTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 121 

anguish and lamentation that ensued would have confounded 
those who insist on Indian stoicism. 

Such was the disastrous event that had overwhelmed the 
Nez Perces tribe during the absence of Captain Bonneville; 
and he was informed that Kosato, the renegade, who, being 
stationed in the village, had been prevented from going on the 
forlorn hope, was again striving to rouse the vindictive feel- 
ings of his adopted brethren, and to prompt them to revenge 
the slaughter of their devoted braves. 

During his sojourn on the Snake Eiver plain. Captain Bonne- 
ville made one of his first essays at the strategy of the fur 
trade. There was at this time an assemblage of Nez Perces, 
Flatheads, and Cottonois Indians encamped together upon the 
plain; well provided with beaver, which they had collected 
during the spring. These they were waiting to traffic with a 
a resident trader of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was 
stationed among them, and with whom they were accustomed 
to deal. As it happened, the trader was almost entirely desti- 
tute of Indian goods; his spring supply not having yet reached 
him. Captain Bonneville had secret intelligence that the sup- 
plies were on their way, and would soon arrive ; he hoped, how- 
ever, by a prompt move, to anticipate their arrival, and secure 
the market to himself. Throwing himself, therefore, among the 
Indians, he opened his packs of merchandise and displayed the 
most tempting wares : bright cloths, and scarlet blankets, and 
glittering ornaments, and everything gay and glorious in the 
eyes of warrior or squaw ; all, however, was in vain. The Hud- 
son’s Bay trader was a perfect master of his business, thor- 
rougly acquainted with the Indians he had to deal with, and 
held such control over them that none dared to act openly in 
opposition to his wishes ; nay, more — he came nigh turning the 
tables upon the captain, and shaking the allegiance of some 
of his free trappers, by distributing liquors among them. The 
latter, therefore, was glad to give up a competition, where the 
war was likely to be carried into his own camp. 

In fact, the traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company have ad- 
vantages over all competitors in the trade beyond the Rocky 
Mountains. That huge monopoly centres within itself not 
merely its own hereditary and long-established power and in- 
fluence ; but also those of its ancient rival, but now integral 
part, the famous Northwest Company. It has thus its races of 
traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, born and brought 
up in its service, and inheriting from preceding generations a 



122 AD TE:N TUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



knowledge and aptitude in everything connected with Indian 
life, and Indian traffic. In the process of years, this company 
has been enabled to spread its ramifications in every direction; 
its system of intercourse is founded upon a long and intimate 
knowledge of the character and necessities of the various tribes ; 
and of aU the fastnesses, defiles, and favorable hunting grounds 
of the country. Their capital, also, and the manner in which 
their supplies are distributed at various posts, or forwarded by 
regular caravans, keep their traders well supplied, and enable 
them to furnish their goods to the Indians at a cheap rate. 
Their men, too, being chiefiy drawn from the Canadas, where 
they enjoy great infiuence and control, are engaged at the most 
trifiing wages, and supported at little cost; the provisions 
which they take with them being little more than Indian corn 
and grease. They are brought also into the most perfect dis- 
cipline and subordination, especially when their leaders have 
once got them to their scene of action in the heart of the wil- 
derness. 

These circumstances combine to give the leaders of the Hud- 
son’s Bay Company a decided advantage over all the American 
companies that come within their range; so that any close 
competition with them is almost hopeless. 

Shortly after Captain Bonneville’s ineffectual attempt to 
participate in the trade of the associated camp, the supplies of 
the Hudson’s Bay Company arrived ; and the resident trader 
was enabled to monopolize the market. 

It was now the beginning of July; in the latter part of which 
month Captain Bonneville had appointed a rendezvous at Horse 
Creek in Green Eiver valley, with some of the parties which 
he had detached in the preceding year. He now turned his 
thoughts in that direction, and prepared for the journey. 

The Cottonois were anxious for him to proceed at once to 
their country; which, they assured him, abounded in beaver. 
The lands of this tribe lie immediately north of those of the 
Flatheads and are open to the inroads of the Blackfeet. It is 
true, the latter professed to be their allies ; but they had been 
guilty of so many acts of perfidy, that the Cottonois had, lat- 
terly, renounced their hollow friendship and attached them 
selves to the Flatheads and Nez Perces. These they had accom- 
panied in their migrations rather than remain alone at home, 
exposed to the outrages of tlie Blackfeet. They were now ap- 
prehensive that these marauders would range their country 
during their absence and destroy the beaver; this Avas their 



ADVENTURhJS OIr CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 12 ;} 

reason for urging C^^ptain Bonneville to make it his autumnal 
hunting ground. The latter, however, was not to be tempted ; 
his engagements required his presence at the rendezvous in 
Green Eiver valley ; and he had already formed his ulterior 
plans. 

An unexpected difficulty now arose. The free trappers sud 
denly made a stand, and declined to accompany him. It was 
4 long and weary journey ; the route lay through Pierre’s Hole, 
and other mountain passes infested by the Blackfeet, and re- 
cently the scenes of sanguinary conflicts. They were not dis' 
^osed to undertake such unnecessary toils and dangers, when 
tney had good and secure trapping grounds nearer at hand, on 
^ne head- waters of Salmon River. 

As these were free and independent fellows, whose will and 
wiiim were apt to be law — who had the whole wilderness be- 
fore them, “where to choose,” and the trader of a rival com- 
pany at hand, ready to pay for their services— it was necessary 
to bend to their wishes. Captain Bonneville fitted them out, 
therefore, for the hunting ground in question ; appointing Mr. 
Hodgkiss to act as their partisan, or leader, and fixing a ren- 
dezvous where he should meet them in the course of the ensu- 
ing winter. The brigade consisted of twen*ty-one free trappers 
and four or five hired men as camp-keepers. This was not the 
exact arrangement of a trapping party ; which when accurately 
organized is composed of two thirds trappers whose duty leads 
them continually abroad in pursuit of game; and one third 
camp-keepers who cook, pack, and unpack; set up the tents, 
take care of the horses and do all other duties usually assigned 
by the Indians to their women. This part of the service is apt 
to be fulfilled by French creoles from Canada and the valley of 
the Mississippi. 

In the meantime the associated Indians having completed 
their trade and received their supplies, were all ready to dis- 
perse in various directions. As there was a formidable band 
of Blackfeet just over a mountain to the northeast, by which 
Hodgkiss and his free trappers would have to pass ; and as it 
was known that those sharp-sighted marauders had their 
scouts out watching every movement of the encampments, sa^ 
as to cut off stragglers or weak detachments. Captain Bonne- 
ville prevailed upon the Nez Perces to accompany Hodgkiss 
and his party until they should be beyond the range of the 
enemy. 

The Cottonois and the Pends Oreilles determined to move 



124 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



together at the same time, and to pass close under the moun- 
tain infested by the Blackf eet ; while Captain Bonneville, with 
his party, was to strike in an opposite dii*ection to the south- 
east, bending his course for Pierre’s Hole, on his way to Green 
Biver. 

Accordingly, on the 6th of July, all the camps were raised at 
the same moment ; each party taking its separate route. Whe 
scene was wild and picturesque ; the long line of traders, trap- 
pers, and Indians, with their rugged and fantastic dresses and 
accoutrements ; their varied weapons, their innumerable 
horses, some under the saddle, some burdened with packages, 
others following in droves; all stretching in lengthening caval- 
cades across the vast landscape, and making for different 
points of the plains and mountains. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

PRECAUTIONS IN DANGEROUS DEFILES — TRAPPERS’ MODE OP 
DEFENCE ON A PRAIRIE — A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR — ARRIVAL IN 
GREEN RIVER VALLEY— ADVENTURES OF THE DETACHMENTS-- 
THE FORLORN PARTISAN— HIS TALE OF DISASTERS. 

As the route of Captain Bonneville lay through what was 
considered the most perilous part of this region of dangers, he 
took all his measures with military skill, and observed the 
strictest circumspection. When on the march, a small scout- 
ing party was thrown in the advance to reconnoitre the coun- 
try through which they were to pass. The encampments were 
selected with great care, and a watch was kept up night and 
day. The horses were brought in and picketed at night, and 
at daybreak a party was sent out to scour the neighborhood for 
half a mile round, beating up every grove and thicket that 
could give shelter to a lurking foe. When all was reported 
safe, the horses were cast loose and turned out to graze. Were 
such precautions generally observed by traders and hunters, 
we should not so often hear of parties being surprised by the 
Indians. 

Having stated the military arrangements of the captain, we 
may here mention a mode of defence on the open prairie, 
^hich we have heard from a veteran in the Indian trade. 



ADVK^TUREb OF CArTATTi^ 125 

When a party of trappers is on a journey with a convoy of 
goods or peltries, every man has three pack-horses under his 
care; each horse laden with three packs. Every man is pro 
vided with a picket with an iron head, a mallet, and hobbles, 
or leathern fetters for the horses. The trappers proceed across 
the prairie in a long line; or sometimes three parallel lines, 
sufficiently distant from each other to prevent the packs from 
interfering. At an alarm, when there is no covert at hand, 
the line wheels so as to bring the front to the rear and form 
a circle. All then dismount, drive their pickets into the 
ground in the centre, fasten the horses to them, and hobble 
their forelegs, so that, in case of alarm, they cannot break 
away. Then they unload them, and dispose of their packs as 
breastworks on the periphery of the circle ; each man having 
nine packs behind which to shelter himself. In this promptly- 
formed fortress, they await the assault of the enemy, and are 
enabled to set large bands of Indians at defiance. 

The first night of his march. Captain Bonneville encamped 
upon Henry’s Fork ; an upper branch of Snake Eiver, called 
after the first American trader that erected a fort beyond the 
mountains. About an hour after all hands had come to a 
halt the clatter of hoofs was heard, and a solitary female, of 
the Nez Perce tribe, came galloping up. She was mounted 
on a mustang or half wild horse, which she managed by a 
long rope hitched round the under jaw by way of bridle. 
Dismounting, she walked silently into the midst of the camp, 
and there seated herself on the ground, still holding her horse 
by the long halter. 

The sudden and lonely apparition of this woman, and her 
calm yet resolute demeanor, awakened universal curiosity. 
The hunters and trappers gathered round, and gazed on her 
as something mysterious. She remained silent, but main- 
tained her air of calmness and self-possession. Captain Bonne- 
ville approached and interrogated her as to the object of her 
mysterious visit. Her answer was brief but earnest — I love 
the whites — I will go with them.” She was forthwith invited 
to a lodge, of which she readily took possession, and from that 
time forward was considered one of the camp. 

In consequence, very probably, of the military precautions 
of Captain Bonneville, he conducted his party in safety 
through this hazardous region. No accident of a disastrous 
kind occurred, excepting the loss of a horse, which, in passing 
along the giddy edge of a precipice, called the Cornice, a dan' 



126 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



gerous pass between Jackson’s and Pierre’s Hole, fell over tlie 
brink, and was dashed to pieces. 

On the 13th of July (1833), Captain Bonneville arrived at 
Green River. As he entered the valley, he beheld it strewed in 
every direction with the carcasses of buffaloes. It was evident 
that Indians had recently been there, and in great numbers. 
Alarmed at this sight, he came to a halt, and as soon as it was 
da.rk, sent out spies to his place of rendezvous on Horse Creek, 
where he had expected to meet with his detached parties of 
trappers on the following day. Early in the morning the spies 
made their appearance in the camp, and with them came three 
trappers of one of his bands, from the rendezvous, who told 
him his people were all there expecting him. As to the 
slaughter among the buffaloes, it had been made by a friendly 
band of Shoshor_*es, who had fallen in with one of his trapping 
parties, and accompanied them to the rendezvous. Having 
imparted this intelligence, the three worthies from the ren- 
dezvous broached a small keg of ‘ ‘ alcohol, ” which they had 
brought with them, to enliven this merry meeting. The liquor 
went briskly round ; all absent friends were toasted, and the 
party moved forward to the rendezvous in high spirits. 

The meeting of associated bands, who have been separate<l 
from each other on these hazardous enterprises, is always in- 
teresting; each having its tales of perils and adventures to 
relate. Such was the case with the various detachments of 
Captain Bonneville’s company, thus brought together on Horse 
Creek. Here was the detachment of fifty men which he had 
sent from Salmon River, in the preceding month of November, 
to winter on Snake River. They had met with many crosses 
and losses in the course of their spring hunt, not so much from 
Indians as from white men. They had come in competition 
with rival trapping parties, particularly one belonging to the 
Rocky Mountain Fur Company ; and they had long stories to 
relate of their manoeuvres to forestall or distress each other. 
In fact, in these virulent and sordid competitions, the trappers 
of each party were more intent upon injuring their rivals,, 
than benefitting themselves ; breaking each other’s traps, tramp- 
ling and tearing to pieces the beaver lodges, and doing every 
thing in their power to mar the success of the hunt. We for' 
bear to detail these pitiful contentions. 

The most lamentable tale of disasters, however, that Captain 
Bonneville had to hear, was from a partisan, whom he had 
detached in the preceding year, with twenty men, to hunt 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 127 



through the outskirts of the Crow country, and on ^^ihu- 
tary streams of the Yellowstone; whence he was to ptoceed 
and join him in his winter quarters on Salmon Rive* . This 
partisan appeared at the rendezvous without his party, and a 
sorrowful tale of disasters had he to relate. In hunting the 
Crow country, he fell in with a village of that tribe ; notorious 
rogues, jockeys, and horse stealers, and errant scamperers of 
the mountains. These decoyed most of his men to desert, and 
carry off horses, traps, and accoutrements. Wlien he at- 
tempted to retake the deserters, the Crow warriors ruffled up 
to him and declared the deserters were their good friends, had 
determined to remain among them, and should not be mo- 
lested. The poor partisan, therefore, was fain to leave his 
vagabonds among these birds of their own feather, and being 
too weak in numbers to attempt the dangerous pass across the 
mountains to meet Captain Bonneville on Salmon River, he 
made, with the few that remained faithful to him, for the 
neighborhood of Tullock’s Fort, on the Yellowstone, under the 
protection of which lie went into winter quarters. 

He soon found out that the neighborhood of the fort was 
nearly as bad as the neighborhood of the Crows. His men 
were continually stealing away thither, with whatever beaver 
skins they could secrete or lay their hands on. These they 
would exchange with the hangers-on of the fort for whiskey, 
and then revel in drunkenness and debauchery. 

The unlucky partisan made another move. Associating with 
his party a few free trappers, whom he met with in this neigh- 
borhood, he started off early in the spring to trap on the head 
waters of Powder River. In the course of the journey^ his 
horses were so much jaded in traversing a steep mountain, 
that he was induced to turn them loose to graze during the 
night. The place was lonely ; the path was rugged ; there was 
not the sign of an Indian in the neighborhood ; not a blade of 
grass that had been turned by a footstep. But who can calcu- 
late on security in the midst of the Indian country, where the 
foe lurks in silence and secrecy, and seems to come and go on 
the wings of the wind? The horses had scarce been turned 
loose, when a couple of Arickara (or Rickaree) warriors en- 
tered the camp. They affected a frank and friendly demeanor ; 
but their appearance and movements awakened the suspicions 
of some of the veteran trappers, well versed in Indian wiles. 
Convinced that they were spies sent on some sinister errand, 
they took them in custody, and set to work to drive in the 



128 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



horses. It was too late — the horses were already gone. In 
fact, a war party of Arickaras had been hovering on their trail 
for several days, watching with the patience and perseverance 
of Indians, for some moment of negligence and fancied secu- 
rity, to make a successful swoop. The two spies had evidently 
been sent into the camp to create a diversion, while their con- 
federates carried off the spoil. 

The unlucky partisan, thus robbed of his horses, turned furi- 
ously on his prisoners, ordered them to be bound hand and 
foot, and swore to put them to death unless his property were 
restored. The robbers, who soon found that their spies were 
in captivity, now made their appearance on horseback, and 
held a parley. The sight of them, mounted on the very horses 
they had stolen, set the blood of the mountaineers in a fer- 
ment ; but it was useless to attack them, as they would have 
but to turn their steeds and scamper out of the reach of pedes- 
trians. A negotiation was now attempted. The Arickaras 
offered what they considered fair terms ; to barter one horse, 
or even two horses, for a prisoner. The mountaineers spurned 
at their offer, and declared that, unless all the horses were re- 
linquished, the prisoners should be burnt to death. To give 
force to their threat, a pyre of logs and fagots was heaped up 
and kindled into a blaze. 

The parley continued; the Arickaras released one horse and 
then another, in earnest of their proposition ; finding, however, 
that nothing short of the relinquishment of all their spoils 
would purchase the lives of the captives, they abandoned them 
to their fate, moving off with many parting words and lament- 
able bowlings. The prisoners seeing them depart, and know- 
ing the horrible fate that awaited them, made a desperate 
effort to escape. They partially succeeded, but were severely 
wounded and retaken ; then dragged to the blazing pyre, and 
burnt to death in the sight of their retreating comrades. 

Such are the savage cruelties that white men learn to prac- 
tise, who mingle in savage life ; and such are the acts that lead 
to terrible recrimination on the part of the Indians. Should 
we hear of any atrocities committed by the Arickaras upon 
captive white men, let this signal and recent provocation be 
borne in mind. Individual cases of the kind dwell in the recol- 
lections of whole tribes ; and it is a point of honor and con- 
science to revenge them. 

The loss of his horses completed the ruin of the unlucky par- 
tisan. It was out of his power to prosecute his hunting, or to 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 129 



maintain his party ; the only thought now was how to get back 
to civihzed hfe. At the first water-course, his men built canoes, 
and committed themselves t o the stream. Some engaged them- 
selves at various trading establishments at which they touched, 
others got back to the settlements. As to the partisan, he found 
an opportunity to make his way to the rendezvous at Green 
River valley; which he reached in time to render to Captain 
Bonneville this forlorn account of his misadventures. 



CHAPTER XX. 

GATHERING IN GREEN RIVER VALLEY— VISITINGS AND FEASTINGS 
OF LEADERS — ROUGH WASSAILING AMONG THE TRAPPERS — 
WILD BLADES OF THE MOUNTAINS — INDIAN BELLES— POTENCY 
OF BRIGHT BEADS AND RED BLANKETS— ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES 
— REVELRY AND EXTRAV AG ANCE — M AD WOLVES — THE LOST 
INDIAN. 

The Green River valley was at this time the scene of one of 
those general gatherings of traders, trappers, and Indians, that 
we have already mentioned. The three rival companies, which, 
for a year past had been endeavoring to out-trade, out-trap, 
and outwit each other, were here encamped in close proximity, 
awaiting their annual supplies. About four miles from the 
rendezvous of Captain Bonneville was that of the American 
Fur Company, hard by which, was that also of the Rocky 
Mountain Fur Company. 

After the eager rivalry and almost hostility displayed by 
these companies in their late campaigns, it might be expected 
that, when thus brought in juxtaposition, they would hold 
themselves warily and sternly aloof from each other, and, 
should they happen to come in contact, brawl and bloodshed 
would ensue. 

No such thing I Never did rival lawyers after a wrangle at 
the bar meet with more social good-humor at a circuit dinner. 
The hunting season over, all past tricks and manoeuvres are 
forgotten, all feuds and bickerings buried in oblivion. From 
the middle of June to the middle of September, all trapping is 
suspended ; for the beavers are then shedding their furs and 
their skins are of little value. This, then, is the trapper’s holi- 



ISO ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

day when he is all for fun and frolic, and ready for a satiu*' 
nalia among the mountains. 

At the present season, too, all parties were in good humor. 
The year had been productive. Competition, by threatening 
to lessen their profits, had quickened their wits, roused their 
energies, and made them turn every favorable chance to the 
best advantage; so that, on assembling at their respective 
places of rendezvous, each company found itself in possession 
of a rich stock of peltries. 

The leaders of the different companies, therefore, mingled on 
terms of perfect good-fellowship; interchanging visits, and re- 
galing each other in the best style their respective camps af- 
forded. But the rich treat for the worthy captain was to see 
the “ chivalry” of the various encampments engaged in contests 
of skill at running, jumping, wrestling, shooting with the rifle, 
and running horses. And then their rough hunters’ feastings 
and carousals. They drank together, they sang, they laughed, 
they whooped ; they tried to outbrag and outlie each other in 
stories of their adventures and achievements. Here the free 
trappers were in all their glory; they considered themselves 
the “cocks of the walk,” and always carried the highest crests. 
Now and then familiarity was pushed too far, and would effer- 
vesce into a brawl, and a “ rough and tumble” fight; but it all 
ended in cordial reconciliation and maudlin endearment. 

The presence of the Shoshonie tribe contributed occasionally 
to cause temporary jealousies and feuds. The Shoshonie beau- 
ties became objects of rivalry among some of the amorous 
mountaineers. Happy was the trapper who could muster up a 
red blanket, a string of gay beads, or a paper of precious ver- 
milion, with which to win the smiles of a Shoshonie fair one. 

The caravans of supplies arrived at the valley just at this 
period of gallantry and good-fellowship. Now commenced a 
scene of eager competition and wild prodigality at the different 
encampments. Bales were hastily ripped open, and their motley 
contents poured forth. A jnania for purchasing spread itself 
throughout the several bands — munitions for war, for hunting, 
for gallantry, were seized upon with equal avidity — rifles, 
hunting knives, traps, scarlet cloth, red blankets, garish beads, 
and glittering trinkets, were bought at any price, and scores 
run up without any thought how they were ever to be rubbed 
off. The free trappers especially were extravagant in their 
purchases. For a free mountaineer to pause at a paltry con- 
sideration of dollars and cents, in the attainment of any object 



ADVEISTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 131 



that might strike liis fancy, would stamp him with the mark 
of the beast in the estimation of his comrades. For a trader to 
refuse one of these free and flourishing blades a credit, what- 
ever unpaid scores might stare him in the face, would be a fla- 
grant affront, scarcely to be forgiven. 

Now succeeded another outbreak of revelry and extrava- 
gance. The trappers were newly fitted out and arrayed, and 
dashed about with their horses caparisoned in Indian style. 
The Shoshonie beauties also flaunted about in all the colors of 
the rainbow. Every freak of prodigality was indulged to its 
fullest extent, and in a little while most of the trappers, having 
squandered away all their wages, and perhaps run knee-deep 
in debt, were ready for another hard campaign in the wilder- 
ness. 

During this season of folly and frolic, there was an alarm of 
mad wolves in the two lower camps. One or more of these 
animals entered the camps for three nights successively, and 
bit several of the people. 

Captain Bonneville relates the case of an Indian who was a 
universal favorite in the lower camp. He had been bitten by 
one of these animals. Being out with a party shortly afterward 
he grew silent and gloomy, and lagged behind the rest, as if 
he wished to leave them. They halted and urged him to move 
faster, but he entreated them not to approach him, and, leap- 
ing from his horse, began to roll frantically on the earth, gnash- 
ing his teeth and foaming at the mouth. Still he retained his 
senses, and warned his companions not to come near him, as 
he should not be able to restrain himself from biting them. 
They hurried off to obtain relief ; but on their return he was 
nowhere to be found. His horse and his accoutrements re- 
mained upon the spot. Three or four days afterward, a soli- 
tary Indian, believed to be the same, was observed crossing a 
valley, and pursued ; but he darted away into the fastnesses of 
the mountains, and was seen no more. 

Another instance we have from a different person who was 
present in the encampment. One of the men of the Rocky 
Mountain Fur Company had been bitten. He set out shortly 
afterward in company with two white men, on his return to the 
settlements. In the course of a few days he showed symptoms 
of hydrophobia, and became raving toward night. At length, 
breaking away from his companions, he rushed into a thicket 
of willows, where they left him to his fate ! 



132 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CHAPTER XXI. 

SCHEMES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE— THE GREAT SALT LAKE— EX- 
PEDITION TO EXPLORE IT— PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY TO 

THE BIGHORN. 

Captain Bonneville now found himself at the head of a 
hardy, well-seasoned and well-appointed company of trappers, 
all benefited by at least one year’s experience among the moun- 
tains, and capable of protecting themselves from Indian wiles 
and stratagems, and of providing for their subsistence wherever 
game was to he found. He had, also, an excellent troop of 
horses, in prime condition, and fit for hard service. He deter- 
. mined, therefore, to strike out into some of the bolder parts of 
his scheme. One of these was to carry his expeditions into 
some of the unknown tracts of the Far West, beyond what is 
generally termed the buffalo range. This would have some- 
thing of the merit and charm of discovery, so dear to every 
brave and adventurous spirit. Another favorite project was 
to establish a trading post on the lower part of the Columbia 
River, near the Multnomah valley, and to endeavor to re- 
trieve for his country some of the lost trade of Astoria. 

The first of the above mentioned views was, at present, 
uppermost in his mind — the exploring of unknown regions. 
Among the grand features of the wilderness about which he 
was roaming, one had made a vivid impression on his mind, 
and been clothed by his imagination with vague and ideal 
charms. This is a great lake of salt water, laving the feet of the 
mountains, but extending far to the west-southwest, into one 
of those vast and elevated plateaus of land, which range high 
above the level of the Pacific. 

Captain Bonneville gives a striking account of the lake when 
seen from the land. As you ascend the mountains about its 
shores, says he, you behold this immense body of water spread- 
ing itself before you, and stretching further and further, in one 
wide and far-reaching expanse, until the eye, wearied with 
continued and strained attention, rests in the blue dimness of 
distance, upon lofty ranges of mountains, confidently asserted 
to rise from the bosom of the waters. Nearer to you, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 133 



smooth and unruffled surface is studded with little islands, 
where the mountain sheep roam in considerable numbers. 
What extent of lowland may be encompassed by the high 
peaks beyond, must remain for the present matter of mere 
conjecture; though from the form of the summits, and the 
breaks which may be discovered among them, there can be 
httle doubt that they are the sources of streams calculated to 
water large tracts, which are probably concealed from view by 
the rotundity of the lake’s surface. At some future day, in 
all probability, the rich harvest of beaver fur, which may be 
reasonably anticipated in such a spot, will tempt adventurers 
to reduce all this doubtful region to the palpable certainty of a 
beaten track. At present, however, destitute of the means of 
making boats, the trapper stands upon the shore, and gazes 
upon a promised land which his feet are never to tread. 

Such is the somewhat fanciful view which Captain Bonne- 
ville gives of this great body of water. He has evidently 
taken part of his ideas concerning it from the representations 
of others, who have somewhat exaggerated its features. It is 
reported to be about one hundred and fifty miles long, and 
fifty miles broad. The ranges of mountain peaks which Cap- 
tain Bonneville speaks of, as rising from its bosom, are prob- 
ably the summits of mountains beyond it, which may be 
visible at a vast distance^ when viewed from an eminence, in the 
transparent atmosphere of these lofty regions. Several large 
islands certainly exist in the lake ; one of which is said to be 
mountainous, but not by any means to the extent required to 
furnish the series of peaks above mentioned. 

Captain Sublette, in one of his early expeditions across the 
mountains, is said to have sent four men in a skin canoe, to 
explore the lake, who professed to have navigated all round it ; 
but to have suffered excessively from thirst, the water of the 
lake being extremely salt, and there being no fresh streams 
running into it. 

Captain Bonneville doubts this report, or that the men ac-= 
complished the circumnavigation, because, he says, the lake 
receives several large streams from the mountains which 
bound it to the east. In the spring, when the streams are 
swollen by rain and by the melting of the snows, the lake rises 
several feet above its ordinary level; during the summer, it 
gradually subsides again, leaving a sparkhng zone of the finest 
salt upon its shores. 

The elevation of the vast plateau on which this lake is sitU' 



134 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



ated, is estimated by Captain Bonneville at one and three 
fourths of a mile above the level of the ocean. The admirabb 
purity and transparency of the atmosphere in this region, al- 
lowing objects to be seen, and the report of firearms to be 
heard at an astonishing distance; and its extreme dryness, 
causing the wheels of wagons to fall in pieces, as instanced in 
former passages of this work, are proofs of the great altitude 
of the Rocky Mountain plains. That a body of salt water 
should exist at such a height, is cited as a singular phenome- 
non by Captain Bonneville, though the salt lake of Mexico is 
not much inferior in elevation.* 

To have this lake properly explored, and all its secrets re- 
vealed, was the grand scheme of the captain for the present 
year ; and while it was one in which his imagination evidently 
took a leading part, he believed it would be attended with great 
profit, from the numerous beaver streams with which the lake 
must be fringed. 

This momentous undertaking he confided to his lieutenant, 
Mr. Walker, in whose experience and ability he had great con- 
fidence. He instructed him to keep along the shores of the 
lake, and trap in all the streams on his route ; also to keep a 
journal, and minutely to record the events of his journey, and 
everything curious or interesting, making maps or charts of 
his route, and of the surrounding country. 

No pains nor expense were spared in fitting out the party, of 
forty men, which he was to command. They had complete 
supplies for a year, and were to meet Captain Bonneville in 
the ensuing summer, in the valley of Bear River, the largest 
tributary of the Salt Lake, which was to be his point of general 
rendezvous. 

The next care of Captain Bonneville, was to arrange for the 
safe transportation of the peltries which he had collected, to 
the Atlantic States. Mr. Robert Campbell, the partner of Sub- 
lette, was at this time in the rendezvous of the Rocky Moun- 
tain Fur Company, having brought up their supplies. He was 
about to set off on his return, with the peltries collected during 
the year, and intended to proceed through the Crow country, 
to t .e head of navigation on the Bighorn River, and to descend 



♦ The lake of Tezcuco, which surrounds the city of Mexico, the largest and lowest 
of the five lakes in the Mexican plateau, and one of the most impregnated with saline 
particles, is seven thousand four hundred and sixty-eight feet, or nearly one mile 
and a half above the level of the sea. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I35 



in boats down that river, the Missouri, and the Yellowstone, to 
St. Louis. 

Captain Bonneville determined to forward his peltries by 
the same route, under the especial care of Mr. Cerre. By way 
of escort, he would accompany Cerre to the point of embarka 
tion and then make an autumnal hunt in the Crow country. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CROW COUNTRY— A CROW PARADISE— HABITS OF THE CROWS 
—ANECDOTES OF ROSE, THE RENEGADE WHITE MAN— HIS FIGHTS 
WITH THE BLACKFEET— HIS ELEVATION— HIS DEATH— ARAPOO- 
ISH, THE CROW CHIEF— HIS EAGLE— ADVENTURE OF ROBERT 
CAMPBELL— HONOR AMONG CROWS. 

Before we accompany Captain Bonneville into the Crow 
country, we will impart a few facts about this wild region, 
and the wild people who inhabit it. We are not aware of the 
precise boundaries, if there are any, of the country claimed by 
the Crows ; it appears to extend from the Black Hills to the 
Rocky Mountains, including a part of their lofty ranges, and 
embracing many of the plains and valleys watered by the 
Wind River, the Yellowstone, the Powder River, the Little 
Missouri, and the Nebraska. The country varies in soil and 
climate ; there are vast plains of sand and clay, studded with 
large red sand-hills; other parts are mountainous and pictu- 
resque; it possesses warm springs, and coal mines, and abounds 
with game. 

But let us give the account of the country as rendered by 
Arapooish, a Crow chief, to Mr. Robert Campbell, of the 
Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 

‘‘The Crow country,” said he, “is a good country. The 
Great Spirit has put it exactly in the right place ; while you 
are in it you fare well; whenever you go out of it, whichever 
way you travel, you fare worse. 

“If you go to the south you have to wander over great 
barren plains ; the water is warm and bad, and you meet the 
fever and ague. 

“To the north it is cold; the winters are long and bitter, 



136 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



with no grass; you cannot keep horses there, hut must travel 
with dogs. What is a country without horses? 

On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, paddle about in 
canoes, and eat fish. Their teeth are worn out; they are al- 
ways taking fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor food. 

To the east, they dwell in villages ; they live well ; bilt they 
drink the muddy water of the Missouri — that is bad. A 
Crow’s dog would not drink such water. 

‘‘About the forks of the Missouri is a fine country; good 
water ; good grass ; plenty of buffalo. In summer, it is almost 
as good as the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; the 
grass is gone ; and there is no salt weed for the horses. 

“The Crow country is exactly in the right place. It has 
snowy mountains and sunny plains; all kinds of climates 
and good things for every season. When the summer heats 
scorch the prairies, you can draw up under the mountains, 
where the air is sweet and cool, the grass fresh, and the bright 
streams come tumbling out of the snow-banks. There you 
can hunt the elk, the deer, and the antelope, when their skins 
are fit for dressing ; there you will find plenty of white bears 
and mountain sheep. 

“ In the autumn, when your horses are fat and strong from 
the mountain pastures, you can go down into the plains and 
hunt the buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. And when 
winter comes on, you can take shelter in the woody bottoms 
along the rivers ; there you wiU find buffalo meat for your- 
selves, and cotton- wood bark for your horses; or you may 
winter in the Wind Kiver valley, where there is salt weed in 
abundance. 

“ The Crow country is exactly in the right place. Every- 
thing good is to be found there. There is no country like the 
Crow country.” 

Such is the eulogium on his country by Arapooish. 

We have had repeated occasions to speak of the restless and 
predatory habits of the Crows. They can muster fifteen hun- 
dred fighting men ; but their incessant wars with the Black- 
feet, and their vagabond, predatory habits, are gradually 
wearing them out. 

In a recent work, we related the circumstance of a white 
man named Eose, an outlaw, and a designing vagabond, who 
acted as guide and interpreter to Mr. Hunt and his party, on 
their journey across the mountains to Astoria, who came near 
betraying them into the hands of the Crows, and who ro 



adventures of captain BONNEVILLE. 137 



mained among the tribe, marrying one of their women, and 
adopting their congenial habits.* A few anecdotes of the sub' 
sequent fortunes of that renegade may not be uninteresting, 
especially as they are connected with the fortunes of the 
tribe. 

Eose was powerful in frame and fearless in spirit ; and soon 
by his daring deeds took his rank among the first braves of 
the tribe. He aspired to command, and knew it was only to 
be attained by desperate exploits. He distinguished himself in 
repeated actions with Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of 
those savages had fortified themselves within a breastwork, 
and could not be harmed. Eose proposed to storm the work. 
“Who will take the lead?” was the demand. “I!” cried he; 
and putting himself at their head, rushed forward. The first 
Blackfoot that opposed him he shot down with his rifie, and 
snatching up the war-club of his victim killed four others 
within the fort. The victory was complete, and Eose returned 
to the Crow village covered with glory, and bearing five Black- 
foot scalps, to be erected as a trophy before his lodge. From 
this time he was known among the Crows by the name 
of Che-ku-kaats, or “the man who killed five.” He became 
chief of the village, or rather band, and for a time was the 
popular idol. His popularity soon awakened envy among the 
native braves; he was a stranger, an intruder; a white man. 
A party seceded from his command. Feuds and civil wars 
succeeded that lasted for two or three years, until Eose, hav- 
ing contrived to set his adopted brethren by the ears, left 
them, and went down the Missouri in 1823. Here he fell in 
with one of the earliest trapping expeditions sent by General 
Ashley across the mountains. It was conducted by Smith, 
Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. Eose enlisted with them as guide 
and interpreter. When he got them among the Crows, he 
was exceedingly generous with their goods; making presents 
to the braves of his adopted tribe, as became a high-minded 
chief. 

This doubtless, helped to revive his popularity. In that ex- 
pedition, Smith and Fitzpatrick were robbed of their horses in 
Green Eiver valley; the place where the robbery took place 
still bears the name of Horse Creek. We are not informed 
whether the horses were stolen through the instigation and 
management of Eose; it is not improbable, for such was the 



* See Astoria. 



133 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



perfidy he had intended to practise on a former occasion 
toward Mr. Hunt and his party. 

The last anecdote we have of Rose is from an Indian trader. 
When General Atkinson made his military expedition up the 
Missouri, in 1825, to protect the fur trade, he held a conference 
with the Crow nation, at which Rose figured as Indian dig- 
nitary and Crow interpreter. The military were stationed at 
some httle distance from the scene of the ‘^big talk.” While 
the general and the chiefs were smoking pipes and making 
speeches, the ofiicers, supposing all was friendly, left the 
troops and drew near the scene of ceremonial. Some of the 
more knowing Crows, perceiving this, stole quietly to the 
camp, and, unobserved, contrived to stop the touch-holes of 
the field pieces with dirt. Shortly after a misunderstanding 
occurred in the conference ; some of the Indians knowing the 
cannon to be useless, became insolent. A tumult arose. In 
the confusion Colonel O’Fallan snapped a pistol in the face of 
a brave, and knocked him down with the butt end. The 
Crows were all in a fury. A chance medley fight was on the 
point of taking place, when Rose, his natural sympathies as a 
white man suddenly recurring, broke the stock of his fusee 
over the head of a Crow warrior, and laid so vigorously about 
him with the barrel, that he soon put the whole throng to 
flight. Luckily, as no lives had been lost, this sturdy rib- 
roasting calmed the fury of the Crows, and the tumult ended 
without serious consequences. 

What was the ultimate fate of this vagabond hero is not 
distinctly known. Some report him to have fallen a victim to 
disease, brought on by his licentious life ; others assert that he 
was murdered in a feud among the Crows. After all, his resi- 
dence among these savages, and the influence he acquired over 
them had, for a time, some beneficial effects. He is said, not 
merely to have rendered them more formidable to the Black- 
feet, but to have opened their eyes to the pohcy of cultivating 
the friendship of the white men. 

After Rose’s death, his policy continued to be cultivated, 
with indifferent success, by Arapooish, the chief already men- 
tioned, who had been his great friend, and whose character he 
had contributed to develope. This sagacious chief endeavored, 
on every occasion, to restrain the predatory propensities of his 
tribe when directed against the white men. ‘‘If we keep 
friends with them,” said he, “we have nothing to fear from 
the Blackfeet, and can rule the mountains.” Arapooish pre^ 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 139 



tended to be a great ‘‘medicine man;” a character among the 
Indians which is a compound of priest, doctor, prophet, and 
conjurer. He carried about with him a tame eagle, as his 
“medicine,” or familiar. With the white men, he acknowl- 
edged that this was all charlatanism; but said it was necessary, 
to give him weight and influence among his people. 

Mr. Eobert Campbell, from whom we have most of these 
facts, in the course of one of his trapping expeditions, was 
quartered in the village of Arapooish, and a guest in the lodge 
of the chieftain. He had collected a large quantity of furs, 
and, fearful of being plundered, deposited but a part in the 
lodge of the chief ; the rest he buried in a cache. One night, 
Arapooish came into the lodge with a cloudy brow, and seated 
himself for a time without saying a word. At length, turning 
to Campbell, “You have more furs with you,” said he, “ than 
you have brought into my lodge?” 

“ I have,” replied Campbell. 

“Where are they?” 

Campbell knew the uselessness of any prevarication with an 
Indian; and the importance of complete frankness. He de- 
scribed the exact place where he had concealed his peltries. 

“ ’Tis well,” replied Arapooish; “you speak straight. It i& 
just as you say. But your cache has been robbed. Go and 
see how many skins have been taken from it.” 

Campbell examined the cache, and estimated his loss to be 
about one hundred and fifty beaver skins. Arapooish now 
summoned a meeting of the village. He bitterly reproached 
his people for robbing a stranger who had confided to their 
honor; and commanded that whoever had taken the skins, 
should bring them back ; declaring that, as Campbell was his 
guest and inmate of his lodge, he would not eat nor drink until 
every skin was restored to him. 

The meeting broke up, and every one dispersed. Arapooish 
now charged Campbell to give neither reward nor thanks to 
any one who should bring in the beaver skins, but to keep 
count as they were delivered. 

In a little while the skins began to make their appearance, a 
few at a time; they were laid down in the lodge, and those 
who brought them departed without saying a word. The day 
passed away. Arapooish sat in one corner of his lodge, 
wrapped up in his robe, scarcely moving a muscle of his coun- 
tenance. When night arrived, he demanded if all the skins had 
been brought in. Above a hundred had been given up, and 



140 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



Campbell expressed himself contented. Not so the Crow chief- 
tain. He fasted all that night, nor tasted a drop of water. In 
the morning some more skins were brought in, and continued 
to come, one and two at a time, throughout the day ; until but 
a few were wanting to make the number complete. Campbell 
was now anxious to put an end to this fasting of the old chief, 
and again declared that he was perfectly satisfied. Arapooish 
demanded what number of skins were yet wanting. On being 
told, he whispered to some of his people, who disappeared. 
After a time the number were brought in, though it was evi- 
dent they were not any of the skins that had been stolen, but 
others gleaned in the village. 

‘‘Is aU right now?” demanded Arapooish. 

“All is right,” replied Campbell. 

‘ ‘ Good ! Now bring me meat and drink !” 

When they were alone together, Arapooish had a conversa- 
tion with his guest. 

“When you come another time among the Crows,” said he, 
“ don’t hide your goods ; trust to them and they will not wrong 
you. Put your goods in the lodge of a chief, and they are 
sacred; hide them in a cache, and any one who finds will steal 
them. My people have now given up your goods for my sake ; 
but there are some foolish young men in the village who may 
be disposed to be troublesome. Don’t linger, therefore, but 
pack your horses and be off.” 

Campbell took his advice, and made his way safely out of the 
Crow country. He has ever since maintained that the Crows 
are not so black as they are painted. “Trust to their honor,” 
?ays he, ‘ ‘ and you are safe ; trust to their honesty, and they 
will steal the hair off your head.” 

Having given these few preliminary particulars, we will re 
sume the course of our narrative. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 142 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

DEPARTURE FROM GREEN RIVER VALLEY — POPO AGIE— ITS COURSE 
—THE RIVERS INTO WHICH IT RUNS— SCENERY OF THE BLUFFS 
— THE GREAT TAR SPRING— VOLCANIC TRACTS IN THE CROW 
COUNTRY— BURNING MOUNTAIN OF POWDER RIVER— SULPHUR 
SPRINGS— HIDDEN FIRES— COLTER’S HELL —WIND RIVER— CAMP- 
BELL’S PARTY — FITZPATRICK AND HIS TRAPPERS — CAPTAIN 
STEWART, AN AMATEUR TRAVELLER — NATHANIEL WYETH — 
ANECDOTES OF HIS EXPEDITION TO THE FAR WEST— DISASTER 
OF CAMPBELL’S PARTY— A UNION OF BANDS — THE BAD PASS — 
THE RAPIDS— DEPARTURE OF FITZPATRICK — EMBARKATION OF 
PELTRIES — WYETH AND HIS BULL BOAT — ADVENTURES OF CAP- 
TAIN BONNEVILLE IN THE BIGHORN MOUNTAINS— ADVENTURES 
IN THE PLAIN— TRACES OF INDIANS— TRAVELLING PRECAUTIONS 
—DANGERS OF MAKING A SMOKE— THE RENDEZVOUS. 

On the 25 th of July Captain Bonneville struck his tents, and 
set out on his route for the Bighorn, at the head of a party of 
fifty-six men, including those who were to embark with Cerre. 
Crossing the Green Kiver valley, he proceeded along the south 
point of the Wind River range of mountains, and soon fell 
upon the track of Mr. Robert Campbell’s party, which had pre- 
ceded him by a day. This he pursued, until he perceived that 
it led down the banks of the Sweet Water to the southeast. 
As this was different from his proposed direction, he left it; 
and turning to the northeast, soon came upon the waters of the 
Popo Agie. This stream takes its rise in the Wind River 
Mountains. Its name, hke most Indian names, is characteris- 
tic. Popo, in the Crow language signifying head ; and Agie, 
river. It is the head of a long river, extending from the south 
end of the Wind River Mountains in a northeast direction, 
until it falls into the Yellowstone. Its course is generally 
through plains, but is twice crossed by chains of mountains ; 
the first called the Littlehorn, the second the Bighorn. After 
it has forced its way through the first chain, it is called the 
Horn River. After the second chain it is called the Bighorn 
River. Its passage through this last chain is rough and vio- 
lent ; making repeated falls, and rushing down long and furioufi 



143 ADVENTURES OF CAPIAIN BONNEVILLE, 



rapids, which threaten destruction to the navigator; though a 
hardy trapper is said to have shot down them in a canoe. At 
the foot of these rapids, is the head of navigation, where it was 
the intention of the parties to construct boats, and embark. 

Proceeding down along the Popo Agie, Captain Bonneville 
came again in full view of the “Bluffs,” as they are called, ex- 
tending from the base of the Wind Eiver Mountains far away 
to the east, and presenting to the eye a confusion of hills and 
cliffs of red sandstone, some peaked and angular, some round, 
some broken into crags and precipices, and pOed up in fantas- 
tic masses ; but all naked and sterile. There appeared to be no 
soil favorable to vegetation, nothing but coarse gravel; yet, 
over all this isolated, barren landscape, were diffused such at- 
mospherical tints and hues, as to blend the vrhole into har- 
mony and beauty. 

In this neighborhood, the captain made search for “the 
great Tar Spring,” one of the wonders of the mountains; the 
medicinal properties of which, he had heard extravagantly 
lauded by the trappers. After a toilsome search, he found it 
at the foot of a sand-bluff, a little to the east of the Wind 
River Mountains; where it exuded in a small stream of the 
color and consistency of tar. The men immediately hastened 
to collect a quantity of it, to use as an ointment for the galled 
backs of their horses, and as a balsam for their own pains and 
aches. From the description given of it, it is evidently the 
bituminous oil, called petroleum or naphtha, which forms a 
principal ingredient in the potent medicine called British Oil. 
It is found in various parts of Europe and Asia, in several of 
the West India islands, and in some places of the United 
States. In the State of New York, it is called Seneca Oil, from 
being found near the Seneca lake. 

The Crow country has other natural curiosities, which are 
held in superstitious awe by the Indians, and considered great 
marvels by the trappers. Such is the Burning Mountain, on 
Powder River, abounding with anthracite coal. Here the 
earth is hot and cracked ; in many places emitting smoke and 
sulphurous vapors, as if covering concealed fires. A volcanic 
tract of similar character is found on Stinking River, one of the 
tributaries of the Bighorn, which takes its unhappy name from 
the odor derived from sulphurous springs and streams. This 
last mentioned place was first discovered by Colter, a hunter 
belonging to Lewis and Clarke’s exploring party, who came 
upon it in the course of his lonely wanderings, and gave such 



advent HUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I 4 :] 



an account of its gloomy terrors, its hidden fires, smoking pits, 
noxious streams, and the all-pervading “smell of brimstone,’' 
that it received, and has ever since retained among trappers, 
the name of “Colter’s Hell!” 

Resuming his descent along the left bank of the Popo Agio, 
Captain Bonneville soon reached the plains ; where he found 
several large streams entering from the west. Among these 
was Wind River, which gives its name to the mountains 
among which it takes its rise. This is one of the most impor- 
tant streams of the Crow country. The river being much 
swollen. Captain Bonneville halted at its mouth, and sent out 
scouts to look for a fording place. While thus encamped, he 
beheld in the course of the afternoon a long line of horsemen 
descending the slope of the hills on the opposite side of the 
Popo Agie. His first idea was, that they were Indians ; he 
soon discovered, however, that they were white men, and, by 
the long line of pack-horses, ascertained them to he the con- 
voy of Campbell, which, having descended the Sweet Water, 
was now on its way to the Horn River. 

The two parties came together two or three days afterward, 
on the 4th of August, after having passed through the gap of 
the Littlehorn Mountain. In company with Campell’s convoy, 
was a trapping party of the Rocky Mountain Company, headed 
by Fitzpatrick; who, after Campbell’s embarkation on the 
Bighorn, was to take charge of all the horses, and proceed on 
a trapping campaign. There were, moreover, two chance 
companions in the rival camp. One was Captain Stewart, of 
the British army, a gentleman of noble connections, who was 
amusing himself by a wandering tour in the Far West; in the 
course of which, he had lived in hunter’s style ; accompanying 
various bands of traders, trappers, and Indians ; and manifest- 
ing that relish for the wilderness that belongs to men of game 
spirit. 

The other casual inmate of Mr. Campbell’s camp was Mr. 
Nathaniel Wyeth; the self-same leader of the band of New 
England salmon fishers, with whom we parted company in the 
valley of Pierre’s Hole, after the battle with the Blackfeet. A 
few days after that affair, he again set out from the rendez- 
vous in company with Milton Sublette and his brigade of trap- 
pers. On his march, he visited the battle ground, and pene- 
trated to the deserted fort of the Blackfeet in the midst of the 
wood. It was a dismal scene. The fort was strewed with the 
liiouldering bodies of the slain ; while vultures soared aloft, or 



144 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



sat brooding on the trees around; and Indian dogs howled 
about the place, as if bewailing the death of their masters, 
Wyeth travelled for a considerable distance to the southwest, 
in company with Milton Sublette, when they separated ; and 
the former, with eleven men, the remnant of his band, pushed 
on for Snake River; kept down the course of that eventful 
stream; traversed the Blue Mountains, trapping beaver occa- 
sionally by the way, and finally, after hardships of all kinds, 
arrived on the 29th of October, at Vancouver, on the Colum 
bia, the main factory of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 

He experienced hospitable treatment at the hands of the 
agents of that company; but his men, heartily tired of wan^ 
dering in the wilderness, or tempted by other prospects, re- 
fused, for the most part, to continue any longer in his service. 
Some set off for the Sandwich Islands ; some entered into other 
employ. Wyeth found, too, that a great part of the goods he 
had brought with him were unfitted for the Indian trade ; in a 
word, his expedition, undertaken entirely on his own resources, 
proved a failure. He lost everything invested in it, but his 
hopes. These were as strong as ever. He took note of every- 
thing, therefore, that could be of service to him in the further 
prosecution of his project ; collected all the information within 
his reach, and then set off, accompanied by merely two men, 
on his return journey across the continent. He had got thus 
far ‘‘by hook and by crook,” a mode in which a New England 
man can make his way all over the world, and through all 
kinds of difficulties, and was now bound for Boston; in full 
confidence of being able to form a company for the salmon 
fishery and fur trade of the Columbia. 

The party of Mr. Campbell had met with a disaster in the 
course of their route from the Sweet Water. Three or four of 
the men, who were reconnoitring the country in advance of the 
main body, were visited one night in their camp, by fifteen or 
twenty Shoshonies. Considering this tribe as perfectly friend- 
ly, they received them in the most cordial and confiding man- 
ner. In the course of the night, the man on guard near the 
horses fell sound asleep ; upon which a Shoshonie shot him in 
the head, and nearly killed him. The savages then made off 
with the horses, leaving the rest of the party to find their way 
to the main body on foot. 

The rival companies of Captain Bonneville and Mr. Camp- 
bell, thus fortuitously brought together, now prosecuted their 
journey in great good fellowship; forming a joint camp of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I45 



about a hundred men. The captain, however, began to enter- 
tain doubts that Fitzpatrick and his trappers, who kept pro- 
found silence as to their future movements, intended to hunt 
the same grounds which he had selected for his autumnal cam- 
paign ; which lay to the west of the Horn Fiver, on its tributary 
streams. In the course of liis march, therefore, he secretly de- 
tached a small party of trappers, to make their way to those 
hunting grounds, while he continued on with the main body ; 
appointing a rendezvous at the next full moon, about the 28 th 
of August, at a place called the Medicine Lodge. 

On reaching the second chain, called the Bighorn Mountains, 
where the river forced its impetuous way through a precipi- 
tous defile, with cascades and rapids, the travellers were 
obliged to leave its banks, and traverse the mounta'ns by a 
rugged and frightful route emphatically called the “ Bad Pass.” 
Descending the opposite side, they again made for the river 
banks; and about the middle of August, reached the point 
below the rapids, where the river becomes navigable for boats. 
Here Captain Bonneville detached a second party of trappers, 
consisting of ten men, to seek and join those whom he had de- 
tached while on the route, appointing for them the same ren- 
dezvous (at the Medicine Lodge), on the 28 th of August. 

All hands now set to work to construct ‘‘bull boats,” as they 
are technically called ; a light, fragile kind of bark, character- 
istic of the expedients and inventions of the wilderness ; being 
formed of buffalo skins, stretched on frames. They are some- 
times, also, called skin boats. Wyeth was the first ready; and, 
with his usual promptness and hardihood launched his frail 
bark singly, on this wild and hazardous voyage, down an 
almost interminable succession of rivers, winding through 
countries teeming with savage hordes. Milton Sublette, his 
former fellow traveller, and his companion in the battle scenes 
of Pierre’s Hole, took passage in his boat. His crew consisted 
of two white men, and two Indians. We shall hear further of 
Wyeth, and his wild voyage in the course of our wanderings 
about the Far West. 

The remaining parties soon completed their several arma- 
ments. That of Captain BonneviUe was composed of three bull 
boats, in which he embarked all his peltries, giving them in 
charge of Mr. Cerre, with a party of thirty-six men. Mr. Camp- 
bell took command of his own boats, and the little squadrons 
were soon gliding down the bright current of the Bighorn. 

The secret precautions which Captain Bonneville had taken 



146 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



to throw his men first into the trapping ground west of the 
Bighorn, were, probably, superfluous. It did not appear that 
Fitzpatrick had intended to hunt in that direction. The mo- 
ment Mr. Campbell and his men embarked with the peltries 
Fitzpatrick took charge of all the horses, amounting to above 
a hundred, and struck off to the east, to trap upon Littlehorn, 
Powder and Tongue Rivers. He was accompanied by Captain 
Stewart, who' was desirous of having a range about the Crow 
country. Of the adventures they met with in that region of 
v^agabonds and horse stealers, we shall have something to re- 
late hereafter. 

Captain Bonneville being now left to prosecute his trapping 
campaign without rivalry, set out, on the 17th of August, for 
the rendezvous at Medicine Lodge. He had but four men re- 
maining with him, and forty-six horses to take care of; with 
these he had to make his way over mountain and plain, through 
a marauding, horse-stealing region, full of peril for a numerous 
cavalcade so slightly manned. He addressed himself to his 
difficult journey, however, with his usual alacrity of spirit. 

In the afternoon of his first day’s journey, on drawing near 
to the Bighorn Mountain, on the summit of which he intended 
to encamp for the night, he observed, to his disquiet, a cloud 
of smoke rising from its base. He came to a halt, and watched 
it anxiously. It was very irregular ; sometimes it would almost 
die away ; and then would mount up in heavy volumes. There 
was, apparently, a large party encamped there ; probably, some 
ruffian horde of Blackfeet. At any rate, it would not do for so 
small a nmnber of men, with so numerous a cavalcade, to ven- 
ture within sight of any wandering tribe. Captain Bonne- 
ville and his companions, therefore, avoided this dangerous 
neighborhood ; and, proceeding with extreme caution, reached 
the summit of the mountain, apparently without being discov- 
ered. Here they found a deserted Blackfoot fort, in which 
they ensconced themselves ; disposed of everything as securely 
as possible, and passed the night without molestation. Early 
the next morning they descended the south side of the moun- 
tain into the great plain extending between it and the Little- 
horn range. Here they soon came upon numerous footprints, 
and the carcasses of buffaloes; by which they knew there 
must be Indians not far off. Captain Bonneville now began to 
feel solicitude about the two small parties of trappers which he 
had detached, lest the Indians should have come upon them 
before they had united their forces. But he felt still more 



ADVENT UlUm OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. M'l 

solicitude about his own party; for it was hardly to be expected 
he could traverse these naked plains undiscovered, when In- 
dians were abroad; and should he be discovered, his chance 
would be a desperate one. Everything now depended upon 
the greatest circumspection. It was dangerous to discharge a 
gun or light a fire, or make the least noise, where such quick- 
eared and quick-sighted enemies were at hand. In the course 
of the day they saw indubitable signs that the buffalo had been 
roaming there in great numbers, and had recently been fright- 
ened away. That night they encamped with the greatest care; 
and threw up a strong breastwork for their protection. 

For the two succeeding days they pressed forward rapidly, 
but cautiously, across the great plain; fording the tributary 
streams of the Horn River; encamping one night among 
thickets; the next, on an island; meeting, repeatedly, with 
traces of Indians; and now and then, in passing through a 
defile experiencing alarms that induced them to cock their 
rifies. 

On the last day of their march hunger got the better of theii 
caution, and they shot a fine buffalo bull at the risk of being 
betrayed by the report. They did not halt to make a meal, 
but carried the meat on with them to the place of rendezvous, 
the Medicine Lodge, where they arrived safely, in the evening, 
celebrated their arrival by a hearty supper. 

The next morning they erected a strong pen for the horses, 
and a fortress of logs for themselves ; and continued to observe 
the greatest caution. Their cooking was all done at mid-day, 
when the fire makes no glare, and a moderate smoke cannot 
he perceived at any great distance. In the morning and the 
evening when the wind is lulled, the smoke rises perpendicu- 
larly in a blue column, or floats in light clouds above the tree- 
tops, and can be discovered from afar. 

In this way the little party remained for several days, cam 
tiously encamped, until, on the 29th of August, the two detach- 
ments they had been expecting, arrived together at the ren- 
dezvous. They, as usual; had their several tales of adventures 
to relate to the captain, which we will furnish to the reader in 
the next chapter. 



148 ADVENTURES OF CAP! AIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

ADVENTURES OF THE PARTY OF TEN — THE BALAAMITE MULE — A 
DEAD POINT— THE MYSTERIOUS ELKS— A NIGHT ATTACK— A RE' 
TREAT— TRAVELLING UNDER AN ALARM — A JOYFUL MEETING- 
ADVENTURES OF THE OTHER PARTY — A DECOY ELK — RETREAT 
TO AN ISLAND— A SAVAGE DANCE OF TRIUMPH— ARRIVAL AT 
WIND RIVER. 

The adventures of the detachment of ten are the first in 
order. These trappers, when they separated from Captain 
Bonneville at the place where the furs were embarked, pro 
ceeded to the foot of the Bighorn Mountain, and having en- 
camped, one of them mounted his mule and went out to set his 
trap in a neighboring stream. He had not proceeded far when 
his steed came to a full stop. The trapper kicked and cud- 
gelled, but to every blow and kick the mule snorted and kicked 
up, but still refused to budge an inch. The rider now cast his 
eyes warily around in search oi some cause for this demur, 
when, to his dismay, he discovered an Indian fort within gun- 
shot distance, lowering through the twilight. In a twinkling 
he wheeled about ; his mule now seemed as eager to get on as 
himself, and in a few moments brought him, clattering with 
his traps, among his comrades. He was jeered at for his 
alacrity in retreating; his report was treated as a false alarm; 
his brother trappers contented themselves with reconnoitring 
the fort at a distance, and pronounced that it was deserted. 

As night set in, the usual precaution, enjoined by Captain 
Bonneville on his men was observed. The horses were brought 
in and tied, and a guard stationed over them. This done, the 
men wrapped themselves in their blankets, stretched them- 
selves before the fire, and being fatigued with a long day's 
march, and gorged with a hearty supper, were soon in a pro^ 
found sleep. 

The camp fires gradually died away; all was dark and silem; 
the sentinel stationed to watch the horses had marched as far, 
and supped as heartily as any of his companions, and while 
they snored, he began to nod at his post. After a time, a low 
trampling noise reached his ear. He half opened his closing 



adventures OE captain BONNEVILLE. 149 



eyes, and beheld two or three elks moving about the lodges, 
picking, and smelling, and grazing here and there. The sight 
of elk within the purlieus of the camp caused some little sur- 
prise ; but, having had his supper, he cared not for elk meat, 
and, suffering them to graze about unmolested, soon relapsed 
into a doze. 

Suddenly, before daybreak, a discharge of firearms, and a 
struggle and tramp of horses, made every one start to his feet. 
The first move was to secure the horses. Some were gone ; 
others were struggling, and kicking, and trembling, for there 
was a horrible uproar of whoops, and yells, and firearms. 
Several trappers stole quietly from the camp, and succeeded in 
driving m the horses which had broken away ; the rest were 
tethered still more strongly. A breastwork was thrown up of 
saddles, baggage, and camp furniture, and all hands waited 
anxiously for daylight. The Indians, in the meantime, col- 
lected on a neighboring height, kept up the most horrible cla- 
mor, in hopes of striking a panic into the camp, or frightening 
off the horses. When the day dawned, the trappers attacked 
them briskly and drove them to some distance. A desultory 
fire was kept up for an hour, when the Indians, seeing nothing 
was to be gained, gave uj' the contest and retired. They 
proved to be a war party of Blackfeet, who, while in search of 
the Crow tribe, had fallen upon the trail of Captain Bonne- 
ville on the Popo Agie, and dogged him to the Bighorn ; but 
had been completely baffled by his vigilance. They had then 
waylaid the present detachment, and were actually housed in 
perfect silence within their fort, when the mule of the trapper 
made such a dead point. 

The savages went off uttering the wildest denunciations of 
hostility, mingled with opprobrious terms in broken English, 
and gesticulations of the most insulting kind. 

In this melee, one white man was wounded, and two horses 
were killed. On preparing the morning’s meal, however, a 
number of cups, knives, and other articles were missing, which 
had, doubtless, been carried off by the fictitious elk, during the 
slumber of the very sagacious sentinel. 

As the Indians had gone off in the direction which the trap- 
pers had intended to travel, the latter changed their route, and 
pushed forward rapidly through the “Bad Pass,” nor halted 
until night; when, supposing themselves out of the reach of 
the enemy, they contented themselves with tying up their 
horses and posting a guard. They had scarce laid down to 



150 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



sleep, when a dog strayed into the camp with a small pack of 
moccasins tied upon his back ; for dogs are made to carry bur- 
dens among the Indians. The sentinel, more knowing than he 
of the preceding night, awoke his companions and reported the 
circumstance. It was evident that Indians were at hand. All 
were instantly at work ; a strong pen was soon constructed for 
the horses, after completing which, they resumed their slum 
bers with the composure of men long inured to dangers. 

In the next night, the prowling of dogs about the camp and 
various suspicious noises showed that Indians were still hover^ 
ing about them. Hurrying on by long marches, they at length 
fell upon a trail, which, with the experienced eye of veteran 
woodmen, they soon discovered to be that of the party of trap- 
pers detached by Captain Bonneville when on his march, and 
whi(^h they were sent to join. They lilcewise ascertained from 
various signs that this party had suffered some maltreatment 
from the Indians. They now pursued the trail with intense 
anxiety; it carried them to the banks of the stream called 
the Gray Bull, and down along its course, until they came to 
where it empties into the Horn Kiver. Here, to their great joy, 
they discovered the comrades of whom they were in search, all 
strongly fortified, and in a state of great watchfulness and 
anxiety. 

We now take up the adventures of this first detachment of 
trappei'S. These men, after parting with the main body under 
Captain BonneviUe, had proceeded slowly for several days up 
the course of the river, trapping beaver as they went. One 
morning, as they were about to visit their traps, one of the 
camp keepers pointed to a fine elk, grazing at a distance, and 
requested them to shoot it. Three of the trappers started off 
for the purpose. In passing a thicket, they were fired upon by 
some savages in ambush, and at the same time, the pretended 
elk, throwing off his hide and his horn, started forth an Indian 
warrior. 

One of the three trappers had been brought down by the 
volley ; the others fled to the camp, and all hands, seizing up 
whatever they could carry off, retreated to a small island in 
the river, and took refuge among the willows. Here they 
were soon joined by their comrade who had fallen, but who 
had merely been wounded in the neck. 

In the meantime the Indians took possession of the deserted 
camp, with all the traps, accoutrements, and horses. While 
they were busy among the spoils, a solitary trapper, who had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTaTN BONNEVILLh. ] 5 '| 



been absent at his work, came sauntering to the camp witli his 
traps on his back. He had approached near by when an In 
dian came forward and motioned him to keep away ; at the 
same moment, he was perceived by his comrades on the island, 
and warned of his danger with loud cries. The poor fellow 
stood for a moment, bewildered and aghast, then dropping hi., 
traps, wheeled and made off at full speed, quickened by a 
sportive voUey which the Indians rattled after him. 

In high good humor with their easy triumph the savages 
now formed a circle round the fire and performed a war dance, 
with the unlucky trappers for rueful spectators. This done, 
emboldened by what they considered cowardice on the part of 
the white men, they neglected their usual mode of bush-fight- 
ing, and advanced openly within twenty paces of the willows. 
A sharp volley from the trappers brought them to a sudden 
halt, and laid three of them breathless. The chief, who had 
stationed himself on an eminence to direct all the movements 
of his people, seeing three of his warriors laid low, ordered the 
rest to retire. They immediately did so, and the whole band 
soon disappeared behind a point of woods, carrying off with 
them the horses, traps, and the greater part of the baggage. 

It was just after this misfortune that the party of ten men 
discovered this forlorn band of trappers in a fortress which 
they had thrown up after their disaster. They were so per- 
fectly dismayed, that they could not be induced even to go in 
quest of their traps, which they had set in a neighboring 
stream. The two parties now joined their forces, and made 
their way without further misfortune, to the rendezvous. 

Captain Bonneville perceived from the reports of these par- 
ties, as well as from what he had observed himself in his re- 
cent march, that he was in a neighborhood teeming with 
danger. Two wandering Snake Indians, also, who visited the 
camp, assured him that there were two large bands of Crows 
marching rapidly upon him. He broke up his encampment, 
therefore, on the first of September, made his way to thej 
south, across the Littlehorn Mountain, until he reached Wind 
River, and then turning westward, moved slowly up the banks 
of that stream, giving time for his men to trap as he proceeded. 
As it was not in the plan of the present hunting campaign to 
go near the caches on Green River, and as the trappers were 
in want of traps to replace those they had lost. Captain Bonne- 
ville undertook to visit the caches, and procure a supply. To 
accompany him in this hazardous expedition, which would 



152 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



take him through the defiles of the Wind Eiver Mountains, 
and up the Green River valley, he took but three men ; the 
main party were to continue on trapping up toward the head 
of Wind River, near which he was to rejoin them, just about 
the place where that stream issues from the mountains. We 
shall accompany the captain on his adventurous errand 



CHAPTER XXV. 

CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE SETS OUT FOR GREEN RIVER VALLEY— 
JOURNEY UP THE POPO AGIE— BUFFALOES— THE STARING 
WHITE BEARS— THE SMOKE — THE WARM SPRINGS — ATTEMPT TO 
TRAVERSE THE WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS— THE GREAT SLOPE — 
MOUNTAIN DELLS AND CHASMS — CRYSTAL LAKES — ASCENT OF 
A SNOWY PEAK— SUBLIME PROSPECT— A PANORAMA— “ LES 
DIGNES DE PITIE,” OR WILD MEN OF THE MOUNTAINS. 

Having forded Wind River a little above its mouth. Captain 
Bonneville and his three companions proceeded across a grav- 
elly plain, until they fell upon the Popo Agie, up the left bank 
of which they held their course, nearly in a southerly direc- 
tion. Here they came upon numerous droves of buffalo, and 
halted for the purpose of procuring a supply of beef. As the 
hunters were stealing cautiously to get within shot of the 
game, two small white bears suddenly presented themselves 
in their path, and, rising upon their hind legs, contemplated 
them for some time with a whimsically solemn gaze. The 
hunters remained motionless; whereupon the bears, having 
apparently satisfied their curiosity, lowered themselves upon 
all fours, and began to withdraw. The hunters now advanced, 
upon which the bears turned, rose again upon their haunches, 
and repeated their serio-comic examination. This was re- 
peated several times, until the hunters, piqued at their un- 
mannerly staring, rebuked it with a discharge of their rifles. 
The bears made an awkward bound or two, as if wounded, and 
then walked off with great gravity, seeming to commune to- 
gether, and every now and then turning to take another look 
at the hunters. It was well for the latter that the bears were 
but half grown, and had not yet acquired the ferocity of their 
kind. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 153 



The buffalo were somewhat startled at the report of the fire- 
arms; but the hunters succeeded in killing a couple of fine 
cows, and, having secured the best of the meat, continued for- 
ward until some time after dark, when, encamping in a large 
thicket of willows, they made a great fire, roasted buffalo beef 
enough for half a score, disposed of the whole of it wdth keen 
relish and high glee, and then “turned in” for the night and 
slept soundly, like weary and well-fed hunters. 

At daylight they were in the saddle again, and skirted along 
the river, passing through fresh grassy meadows, and a succes- 
sion of beautiful groves of willows and cotton- wood. Toward 
evening. Captain Bonneville observed smoke at a distance ris- 
ing from among hills, directly in the route he was pursuing. 
Apprehensive of some hostile band, he concealed the horses in 
a thicket, and, accompanied by one of his men, crawled cau- 
tiously up a height, from which he could overlook the scene 
of danger. Here, with a spy-glass, he reconnoitred the sur- 
rounding country, but not a lodge nor fire, not a man, horse, 
nor dog, was to be discovered ; in short, the smoke which had 
caused such alarm proved to be the vapor from several warm, 
or rather hot springs of considerable magnitude, pouring forth 
streams in every direction over a bottom of white clay. One 
of the springs was about twenty-five yards in diameter, and so 
deep that the water was of a bright green color. 

They were now advancing diagonally upon the chain of Wind 
Eiver Mountains, which lay betv/een them and Green River 
valley. To coast round their southern points would be a wide 
circuit; whereas, could they force their way through them, 
they might proceed in a straight line. The mountains were 
lofty, with snowy peaks and cragged sides ; it was hoped, how- 
ever, that some practicable defile might be found. They at- 
tempted, accordingly, to penetrate the mountains by following 
up one of the branches of the Popo Agie, but soon found them- 
selves in the midst of stupendous crags and precipices, that 
barred all progress. Retracing their steps, and falling back 
upon the river, they consulted where to make another attempt. 
They were too close beneath the mountains to scan them gener- 
ally, but they now recollected having noticed, from the plain, 
a beautiful slope, rising at an angle of about thirty degrees, 
and apparently without any break, until it reached the snow7,r 
region. Seeking this gentle acclivity, they began to ascend it 
with alacrity, trusting to find at the top one of those elevated 
plains which prevail among the Rocky Mountains, The slope 



154 ADVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



was covered with coarse gravel, interspersed with plates oi 
freestone. They attained the summit with some toil, but 
found, instead of a level, or rather undulating plain, that they 
were on the brink of a deep and precipitous ravine, from the 
bottom of which rose a second slope, similar to the one they 
had just ascended. Down into this profound ravine they made 
their way by a rugged path, or rather fissure of the rocks, and 
then labored up the second slope. They gained the summit 
only to find themselves on another ravine, and now perceived 
that this vast mountain, which had presented such a sloping 
and even side to the distant beholder on the plain, was shagged 
by frightful precipices, and seamed with longitudinal chasms, 
deep and dangerous. 

In one of these wild dells they passed the night, and slept 
soundly and sweetly after their fatigues. Two days more ot 
arduous chmbing and scrambling only served to admit them 
into the heart of this mountainous and awful solitude ; where 
difficulties increased as they proceeded. Sometimes they 
scrambled from rock to rock, up the bed of some mountain 
stream, dashing its bright way down to the plains; sometimes 
they availed themselves of the paths made by the deer and the 
mountain sheep, which, however, often took them to the brink 
of fearful precipices, or led to rugged defiles, impassable for 
Gheir horses. At one place they were obliged to slide their 
horses down the face of a rock, in which attempt some of the 
poor animals lost their footing, rolled to the bottom, and came 
near being dashed to pieces. 

In the afternoon of the second day, the travellers attained 
one of the elevated valleys locked up in this singular bed of 
mountains. Here were two bright and beautiful little lalies, 
set like mirrors in the midst, of stern and rocky heights, and 
surrounded by grassy meadows, inexpressibly refreshing to 
the eye. These probably were among the sources of those 
mighty streams which take their rise among these moun- 
tains, and wander hundreds of miles through the plains. 

In the green pastures bordering upon these lakes, the trav- 
ellers halted to repose, and to give their weary horses time 
to crop the sweet and tender herbage. They had now as- 
scended to a great height above the level of the plains, yet 
they beheld huge crags of granite piled one upon another, 
and beetling like battlements far above them. While two of 
the men remained in the camp with the horses. Captain 
Bonneville, accompanied by the other men, set out to clinab 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 15 g 

a neighboring height, hoping to gain a commanding pros- 
pect, and discern some practicable route through this stu- 
pendous labyrinth. After much toil, he reached the summit 
of a lofty cliff, but it was only to behold gigantic peaks ris- 
ing all around, and towering far into the snowy regions of 
the atmosphere. Selecting one which appeared to be the 
highest, he crossed a narrow intervening valley, and began 
to scale it. He soon found that he had undertaken a tre- 
mendous task ; but the pride of man is never more obstinate 
than when climbing mountains. The ascent was so steep 
and rugged that he and his companions were frequently 
obliged to clamber on hands and knees, with their guns slung 
upon their backs. Frequently, exhausted with fatigue, and 
dripping with perspiration, they threw themselves upon the 
snow, and took handfuls of it to allay their parching thirst. 
At one place they even stripped off their coats and hung 
them upon the bushes, and thus lightly clad, proceeded to 
scramble over these eternal snows. As they ascended still 
higher, there were cool breezes that refreshed and braced 
them, and springing with new ardor to their task, they at 
length attained the summit. 

Here a scene burst upon the view of Captain Bonneville, that 
for a time astonished and overwhelmed him with its immensi- 
ty. He stood, in fact, upon that dividing ridge which Indians 
regard as the crest of the world ; and on each side of which 
the landscape may be said to decline to the two cardinal oceans 
of the globe. Whichever way he turned his eye, it was con- 
founded by the vastness and variety of objects. Beneath him, 
the Rocky Mountains seemed to open all their secret recesses ; 
deep, solemn valleys; treasured lakes; dreary passes; rugged 
defiles and foaming torrents ; while beyond their savage pre- 
cincts, the eye was lost in an almost immeasurable landscape, 
stretching on every side into dim and hazy distance, like the 
expanse of a summer’s sea. Whichever way he looked, he be- 
held vast plains glimmering with refiected sunshine ; mighty 
streams wandering on their shining course toward either ocean, 
and snowy mountains, chain beyond chain, and peak beyond 
peak, till they melted like clouds into the horizon. For a time, 
the Indian fable seemed realized ; he had attained that height 
from which the Blackfoot warrior, after death, first catches a 
view of the land of souls, and beholds the happy hunting 
grounds spread out below him, brightening with the abodes of 
the free and generous spirits, The captain stood for a long 



156 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



while gazing upon this scene, lost in a crowd of vague and in 
definite ideas and sensations. A long-drawn inspiration at 
length relieved him from this enthralment of the mind, and he 
began to analyze the parts of this vast panorama. A simple 
enumeration of a few of its features may give some idea of its 
collective grandeur and magnificence. 

The peak on which the captain had taken his stand com- 
manded the whole Wind River chain; which, in fact, may 
rather be considered one immense mountairi, broken into 
snowy peaks and lateral spurs, and seamed with narrow val- 
leys. Some of these valleys glittered with silver lakes and 
gushing streams ; the fountain-heads, as it were, of the mighty 
tributaries to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Beyond the 
snowy peaks, to the south, and far, far below the mountain 
range, the gentle river, called the Sweet Water, was seen pur- 
suing its tranquil way through the rugged regions of the Black 
HiUs. In the east, the head-waters of Wind River wandered 
through a plain, until, mingling in one powerful current, they 
forced their way through the range of Horn Mountains, and 
were lost to view. To the north were caught glimpses of the 
upper streams of the Yellowstone, that great tributary of the 
Missouri. In another direction were to be seen some of the 
sources of the Oregon, or Columbia, flowing to the northwest, 
past those towering landmarks, the Three Tetons, and pouring 
down into the great lava plain ; while, almost at the captain’s 
feet, the Green River, or Colorado of the West, set forth on its 
wandering pilgrimage to the Gulf of California ; at first a mere 
mountain torrent, dashing northward over crag and precipice, 
in a succession of cascades, and tumbling into the plain, where, 
expanding into an ample river, it circled away to the south, 
and after alternately shining out and disappearing in the 
mazes of the vast landscape, was finally lost in a horizon of 
mountains. The day was calm and cloudless, and the atmos- 
phere so pure that objects were discernible at an astonishing 
distance. The whole of this immense area was inclosed by an 
outer range of shadowy peaks, some of them faintly marked 
on the horizon, which seemed to wall it in from the rest of the 
earth. 

It is to be regretted that Captain Bonneville had no instra 
ments with him with which to ascertain the altitude of this 
peak. He gives it as his opinion, that it is the loftiest point of 
the North American continent ; but of this we have no satis- 
factory proof. It is certain that the Rocky Mountains are of 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 157 

an altitude vastly superior to what was formerly supposed. 
We rather incline to the opinion that the highest peak is fur- 
ther to the northward, and is the same measured by Mr. 
Thompson, surveyor to the Northwest Company; who, by the 
joint means of the barometer and trigonometric measurement, 
ascertained it to be twenty-five thousand feet above the level 
of the sea; an elevation only inferior to that of the Him- 
alayas.* 

For a long time, Captain Bonneville remained gazing around 
him with wonder and enthusiasm; ^t length the chill and 
wintry winds, whirling about the snow-clad height, admon- 
ished him to descend. He soon regained the spot where he 
and his companions had thrown off their coats, which were 
now gladly resumed, and, retracing their course down the 
peak, they safely rejoined their companions on the border of 
the lake. 

Notwithstanding the savage and almost inaccessible nature 
of these mountains, they have their inhabitants. As one of 
the party was out hunting, he came upon the track of a man, 
in a lonely valley. Following it up, he reached the brow of a 
cliff, whence he beheld three savages running across the valley 
below him. He fired his gun to call their attention, hoping to 
induce them to turn back. They only fled the faster, and dis- 
appeared among the rocks. The hunter returned and reported 
what he had seen. Captain Bonneville at once concluded tha^ 
these belonged to a kind of hermit race, scanty in number, 
that inhabit the highest and most inaccessible fastnesses. 
They speak the Shoshonie language, and probably are offsets 
from that tribe, though they have peculiarities of their own 
which distinguish them from all other Indians. They are 
miserably poor, own no horses, and are destitute of every con- 
venience to be derived from an intercourse with the whites. 
Their weapons are bows and stone-pointed arrows, with which 
they hunt the deer, the elk, and the mountain sheep. They 
are to be found scattered about the countries of the Shoshonie, 
Flathead, Crow, and Blackf eet tribes ; but their residences are 
always in lonely places, and the clefts of the rocks. 

Their footsteps are often seen by the trappers in the high 
and solitary valleys among the mountains, and the smokes of 
their fires descried among the precipices, but they themselves 



♦See the letter of Professor Renwick, in the Appendix to Astoria. 



158 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



are rarely met with, and still more rarely brought to a parley, 
so great is their shyness and their dread of strangers. 

As iheir poverty offers no temptation to the marauder, and 
as they are inoffensive in their habits, they are never the ob- 
jects of warfare; should one of them, however, fall into the 
hands of a war party, he is sure to be made a sacrifice, for the 
sake of that savage trophy, a scalp, and that barbarous cere- 
mony, a scalp dance. These forlorn beings, forming a mere 
link between human nature and the brute, have been looked 
down upon with pity and contempt by the creole trappers, 
who have given them the appellation of “les dignes de pitie,” 
or “the objects of pity.” They appear more worthy to be 
called the wild men of the mountains. 



I 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

A. RETROGRADE MOVE — CHANNEL OF A MOUNTAIN TORRENT — 
ALPINE SCENERY— CASCADES— BEAVER VALLEYS — BEAVERS AT 
WORK — THEIR ARCHITECTURE— THEIR MODES OP FELLING TREES 
—MODE OF TRAPPING BEAVER— CONTESTS OF SKILL — ^A BEAVER 
“up to trap”— arrival at the GREEN RIVER CACHES. 

The view from the snowy peak of the Wind River Moun- 
tain, while it had excited Captain Bonneville’s enthusiasm, 
had satisfied him that it would be useless to force a passage 
westward, through multiplying barriers of cliffs and preci- 
pices. Turning his face eastward, therefore, he endeavored 
to regain the plains, intending to make the circuit round the 
southern point of the mountain. To descend and to extricate 
himself from the heart of this rock-piled wilderness, was al- 
most as difficult as to penetrate it. Taking his course down 
the ravine of a tumbling stream, the commencement of some 
future river, he descended from rock to rock, and shelf to 
shelf, between stupendous cliffs and beetling crags that 
sprang up to the sky. Often he had to cross and recross 
the rushing torrent, as it wound foaming and roaring down 
its broken channel, or was walled by perpendicular precipices; 
and imminent was the hazard of breaking the legs of the 
horses in the clefts and fissures of slippery rocks. The whole 
scenery of this deep ravine was of Alpine wildness and sub- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 159 



limity. Sometimes the travellers passed beneath cascades 
which pitched from such lofty heights that the water fell 
into the stream like heavy rain. In other places torrents 
came tumbling from crag to crag, dashing into foam and 
spray, and making tremendous din and uproar. 

On the second day of their descent, the travellers, having 
got beyond the steepest pitch of the mountains, came to where 
jh'' deep and rugged ravine began occasionally to expand into 
small levels or valleys, and the stream to assume for short 
intervals a more peaceful character. Here not merely the 
river itself, but every rivulet flowing into it, was dammed 
up by communities of industrious beavers, so as to inundate 
the neighborhood and make continual swamps. 

During a mid-day halt in one of these beaver valleys, Cap- 
tain Bonneville left his companions, and strolled down the 
course of the stream to reconnoitre. He had not proceeded 
far when he came to a beaver pond, and caught a glimpse 
of one of its painstaking inhabitants busily at work upon the 
dam. The curiosity of the captain was aroused, to behold the 
mode of operating of this far-famed architect; he moved for- 
ward, therefore, with the utmost caution, parting the branches 
of the water willows without making any noise, imtil having 
attained a position commanding a view of the whole pond, he 
stretched himself flat on the ground, and watched the sohtary 
workman. In a httle while three others appeared at the head 
of the dam, bringing sticks and bushes. With these they pro- 
ceeded directly to the barrier, which Captain Bonneville per- 
ceived was in need of repair. Having deposited their loads 
upon the broken part, they dived into the water, and shortly 
reappeared at the surface. Each now brought a quantity of 
mud, with which he would plaster the sticks and bushes just 
deposited. This kind of masonry was continued for some 
time, repeated supplies of wood and mud being brought, and 
treated in the same manner. This done, the industrious 
beavers indulged in a little recreation, chasing each other 
about the pond, dodging and whisking about on the surface, 
or diving to the bottom; and in their frolic often slapping 
their tails on the water with a loud clacking sound. While 
they were thus amusing themselves, another of the fraternity 
made his appearance, and looked gravely on their sports for 
some time, without offering to join in them. He then climbed 
the bank close to where the captain was concealed, and, rear- 
ing himself on his hind quarters, in a sitting position, put his 



160 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



fore paws against a young pine tree, and began to cut the bark 
with his teeth. At times he would tear oil a small piece, and 
holding it between his paws, and retaining his sedentary posi- 
tion, would feed himself with it, after the fashion of a monkey. 
The object of the beaver, however, was evidently to cut down 
the tree ; and he was proceeding with his work, when he was 
alarmed by the approach of Captain Bonneville’s men, who, 
feeling anxious at the protracted absence of their leader, were 
coming in search of him. At the sound of their voices, all the 
beavers, busy as well as idle, dived at once beneath the sur- 
face, and were no more to be seen. Captain Bonneville re- 
gretted this interruption. He had heard much of the sagacity 
of the beaver in cutting down trees, in which, it is said, they 
manage to make them fall into the water, and in such a posi- 
tion and direction as may be most favorable for conveyance to 
the desired point. In the present instance, the tree was a tall, 
straight pine, and as it grew perpendicularly, and there was 
not a breath of air stirring, the beaver could have felled it in 
any direction he pleased, if really capable of exercising a dis- 
cretion in the matter. He was evidently engaged in “belting” 
the tree, and his first incision had been on the side nearest to 
the water. 

Captain Bonneville, however, discredits, on the whole, the 
alleged sagacity of the beaver in this particular, and thinks 
the animal has no other aim than to get the tree down, without 
any of the subtle calculation as to its mode or direction of fall- 
ing. This attribute, he thinks, has been ascribed to them from 
the circumstance that most trees growing near water-courses, 
either lean bodily toward the stream, or stretch their largest 
limbs in that direction, to benefit by the space, the fight, and 
the air to be found there. The beaver, of course, attacks those 
trees which are nearest at hand, and on the banks of the 
stream or pond. He makes incisions round them, or, in tech- 
nical phrase, belts them with his teeth, and when they fall, 
they naturally take the direction in which their trunks or 
branches preponderate. 

“I have often,” says Captain Bonneville, “seen trees 
measuring eighteen inches in diameter, at the places where 
they had been cut through by the beaver, but they lay in 
all directions, and often very inconveniently for the after 
purposes of the animal. In fact, so little ingenuity do they 
at times display in this particular, that at one of our camps on 
Snake River a beaver was found with his head wedged into 



ADVENTURES OV CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 161 

the cut which he had made, the tree having fallen upon him 
and held him prisoner until he died.” 

Great choice, according to the captain, is certainly displayed 
by the beaver in selecting the wood which is to furnish bark 
for winter provision. The whole beaver household, old and 
young, set out upon this business, and will often make long 
journeys before they are suited. Sometimes they cut down 
trees of the largest size and then cull the branches, the bark of 
which is most to their taste. These they cut into lengths of 
about three feet, convey them to the water, and float them to 
their lodges, where they are stored away for winter. They 
are studious of cleanliness and comfort in their lodges, and 
after their repasts, will carry out the sticks from which they 
have eaten the bark, and throw them into the current beyond 
the barrier. They are jealous, too, of their territories, and 
extremely pugnacious, never permitting a strange beaver to 
enter their premises, and often fighting with such virulence as 
almost to tear each other to pieces. In the spring, which is 
the breeding season, the male leaves the female at home, and 
sets off on a tour of pleasure, rambling often to a gTeat 
distance, recreating himself in every clear and quiet expanse 
of water on his way, and climbing the banks occasionally to 
feast upon the tender sprouts of the young willows. As sum- 
mer advances, he gives up his bachelor rambles, and bethink- 
ing himself of housekeeping duties, returns home to his mate 
and his new progeny, and marshals them all for the foraging 
expedition in quest of winter provisions. 

After having shown the public spirit of this praiseworthy 
httle animal as a member of a community, and his amiable and 
exemplary conduct as the father of a family, we grieve to re- 
cord the perils with which he is environed, and the snares set 
for him and his painstaking household. 

Practice, says Captain Bonneville, has given such a quick- 
ness of eye to the experienced trapper in all that relates to his 
pursuit, that he can detect the slightest sign of beaver, how- 
ever wild ; and although the lodge may be concealed by close 
thickets and overhanging willows, he can generally, at a single 
giance, make an accurate guess at the number of its inmates. 
He now goes to work to set his trap; planting it upon the 
shore, in some chosen place, two or three inches below the sur- 
face of the water, and secures it by a chain to a pole sot deep 
in the mud. A small twig is then stripped of its bai‘k, and one 
end is dipped in the ‘‘medicine,” as the trappers term the 



162 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 



peculiar bait which they employ. This end of the stick rises 
about four inches above the surface of the water, the other end 
is planted between the jaws of the trap. The beaver, possess- 
ing an acute sense of smell, is soon attracted by the odor of the 
bait. As he raises his nose toward it, his foot is caught in the 
trap. In his fright he throws a somerset into the deep watex% 
The trap being fastened to the pole, resists all his efforts to 
drag it to the shore ; the chain by which it is fastened defies 
his teeth ; he struggles for a time, and at length sinks to the 
bottom and is drowned. 

Upon rocky bottoms, where it is not possible to plant the 
pole, it is thrown into the stream. The beaver when entrapped 
often gets fastened by the chain to sunken logs or floating 
timber ; if he gets to shore, he is entangled in the thickets of 
brook willows. In such cases, however, it costs the trapper 
diligent search, and sometimes a bout at swimming, before he 
finds his game. 

Occasionally it happens that several members of a beaver 
family are trapped in succession. The survivors then become 
extremely shy, and can scarcely be ‘‘brought to medicine,” to 
use the trapper’s phrase, for “taking the bait.” In such case, 
the trapper gives up the use of the bait and conceals his traps 
in the usual paths and crossing-places of the household. The 
beaver no'w being completely “up to trap,” approaches them 
cautiously, and springs them ingeniously with a stick. At 
other times he turns the traps bottom upward by the same 
means, and occasionally even drags them to the barrier and 
conceals them in the mud. The trapper now give up the con- 
test of ingenuity, and shouldering his traps marches off, ad- 
mitting that he is not yet “up to beaver.” 

On the day following Captain Bonneville’s supervision of the 
industrious and frolicsome community of beavers, of which he 
has given so edifying an account, he succeeded in extricating 
himself from the Wind Eiver Mountains, and regaining the 
plain to the eastward, made a great, bend to the south, so as to 
go round the bases of the mountains, and arrived, without 
further incident of importance, at the old place of rendezvous 
in Green River valley, on the 17th of September. 

He found the caches, in which he had deposited his superflu- 
ous goods and equipments, all safe, and having opened and 
taken from them the necessary supplies, he closed them again, 
taking care to obliterate all traces that might betray them to 
the keen eyes of Indian marauders. 



ADVEJS'TUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 133 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

ROUTE TOWARD WIND RIVER — DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD - 
ALARMS AND PRECAUTIONS — A SHAM ENCAMPMENT — APPARITION 
OP AN INDIAN SPY — MIDNIGHT MOVE— A MOUNTAIN DEFILE— 
THE WIND RIVER VALLEY— TRACKING A PARTY— DESERTED 
CAMPS— SYMPTOMS OP CROWS — MEETING OP COMRADES— A 
TRAPPER ENTRAPPED— CROW PLEASANTRY— CROW SPIES— A 
DECAMPMENT— RETURN TO GREEN RIVER VALLEY— MEETING 
WITH FITZPATRICK’S PARTY— THEIR ADVENTURES AMONG THE 
CROWS — ORTHODOX CROWS. 

On the 18 th of September, Captain Bonneville and his three 
companions set out, bright and early, to rejoin the main party, 
from which they had parted on Wind River. Their route lay 
up the Green River valley, with that stream on their right 
hand, and beyond it the range of Wind River ]\Iountains. At 
the head of the valley thoy were to pass through a defile which 
would bring them out beyond the northern end of ’lese moun- 
tains, to the head of Wind River; where they expected to meet 
the main party according to arrangement. 

We have already adverted to the dangerous nature of this 
neighborhood, infested by roving bands of Crows and Black- 
feet, to whom the numerous defiles and passes of the country 
afford capital places for ambush and surprise. The travellers, 
therefore, kept a vigilant eye upon everything that might give 
intimation of lurking danger. 

About two hours after mid-day, as they reached the summit 
of a hill, they discovered buffalo on the plain below, running 
in every direction. One of the men, too, fancied he heard the 
report of a gun. It was concluded, therefore, that there was 
some party of Indians below, hunting the buffalo. 

The horses were immediately concealed in a narrow ravine ; 
and the captain, mounting an eminence, but concealing him- 
self from view, reconnoitred the whole neighborhood with a 
telescope. Not an Indian was to be seen; so, after halting 
about an hour, he resumed his journey. Convinced, however, 
that he was in a dangerous neighborhood, he advanced with 
the utmost caution; winding his way through hollows and 



164- ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



ravines, and avoiding, as much as possible, any open tract or 
rising ground that might betray his little party to the watchful 
eye of an Indian scout. 

Arriving at length at the edge of the open meadow land 
bordering on the river, he again observed the buffalo, as far as 
he could see, scampering in great alarm. Once more conceal- 
ing the horses, he and his companions remained for a long 
time watching the various groups of the animals, as each 
caught the panic and started off; but they sought in vain to 
discover the cause. 

They were now about to enter the mountain defile, at the' 
head of Green Eiver valley, where they might be waylaid and 
attacked ; they therefore arranged the packs on their horses, in 
the manner most secure and convenient for sudden flight, 
should such be necessary. This done, they again set forward, 
keeping the most anxious look-out in every direction. 

It was now drawing toward evening; but they could not 
think of encamping for the night in a place so full of danger. 
Captain Bonneville, therefore, determined to halt about sum 
set, kindle a Are, as if for encampment, cook and eat supper ; 
but, as soon as it was sufficiently dark, to make a rapid move 
for the summit of the mountain, and seek some secluded spot 
for their night’s lodgings. 

Accordingly, as the sun went down, the little party came to 
a halt, made a large fire, spitted their buffalo meat on wooden 
sticks, and, when sufficiently roasted, planted the savory 
viands before them; cutting off huge slices with their hunting 
knives, and supping with a hunter’s appetite. The light of 
their fire would not fail, as they knew, to attract the attention 
of any Indian horde in the neighborhood ; but they trusted to 
be off and away before any prowlers could reach the place. 

‘ While they were supping thus hastily, however, one of their 
party suddenly started up and shouted ‘‘ Indians 1” All were 
instantly on their feet, with their rifles in their hands ; but 
could see no enemy. The man, however, declared that he 
had seen an Indian advancing cautiously along the trail which 
they had made in coming to the encampment, who, the mo- 
ment he was perceived had thrown himself on the ground and 
disappeared. He urged Captain Bonneville instantly to de- 
camp. The captain, however, took the matter more coolly. 
The single fact that the Indian had endeavored to hide himself, 
convinced him that he was not one of a party on the advance 
to make an attack. He was, probably, some scout, who had 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 165 



followed up their trail until he came in sight of their fire. 
He would, in such case, return, and report what he had seen 
.0 his companions. These, supposing the white men had en- 
camped for the night, would keep aloof until very late, when 
all should he asleep. They would then, according to Indian 
tactics, make their stealthy approaches, and place themselves 
in fimbush around, preparatory to their attack at the usual 
hour of daylight. 

Such was Captain Bonneville’s conclusion; in consequence 
of which, he counselled his men to keep perfectly quiet, and 
act as if free from alarm, until the proper time arrived for a 
movement. They, accordingly, continued their repast with 
pretended appetite and jollity; and then trimmed and re- 
plenished their fire, as if .for a bivouac. As soon, however, as 
the night had completely set in, they left their fire blazing, 
walked quietly among the willows, and then leaping into their 
saddles, made off as noiselessly as possible. In proportion ^ 
they left the point of danger behind them, they relaxed in 
their rigid and anxious taciturnity, and began to joke at the 
expense of their enemy, whom they pictured to themselves 
mousing in the neighborhood of their deserted fire, waiting for 
the proper time of attack, and preparing for a grand dis- 
appointment. 

About midnight, feeling satisfied that they had gained a 
secure distance, they posted one of their number to keep 
watch, in case the enemy should follow on their trail, and 
then, turning abruptly into a dense and matted thicket of 
willows, halted for the night at the foot of the mountain, in- 
stead of making for the summit, as they had originally in- 
tended. 

A trapper in the wilderness, like a sailor on the ocean, 
snatches morsels of enjoyment in the midst of trouble, and 
sleeps soundly when surrounded by danger. The little party 
now made their arrangements for sleep with perfect calmness; 
they did not venture to make a fire and cook, it is true, though 
generally done by hunters whenever they come to a halt, and 
have provisions. They comforted themselves, however, by 
smoking a tranquil pipe ; and then calHng in the watch, and 
turning loose the horses, stretched themselves on their pallets, 
agreed that whoever should first awake should rouse the rest, 
and in a little while were all in as sound sleep as though in the 
midst of a fortress. 

A little before day, they were all on the alert; it was the 



166 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



/ 



hour for Indian maraud. A sentinel was immediately de- 
tached, to post himself at a little distance on their trail, and 
give the alarm, should he see or hear an enemy. 

With the first blink of dawn the rest sought the horses, 
brought them to the camp, and tied them up until an hoar 
after sunrise, when, the sentinel having reported that all was 
weU, they sprang once more into their saddles, and pursued 
the most covert and secret paths up the mountain, avoiding 
the direct route. 

At noon they halted and made a hasty repast, and then bent 
their course so as to regain the route from which they had 
diverged. They were now made sensible of the danger from 
which they had just escaped. There were tracks of Indians, 
who had evidently been in pursuit of them, but had recently 
returned, bafiied in their search. 

Trusting that they had now got a fair start, and could not 
be overtaken before night, even in case the Indians should re- 
new the chase, they pushed briskly forward, and did not en- 
camp until late, when they cautiously concealed themselves in 
a secure nook of the moimtains. 

Without any further alarm, they made their way to the 
head-waters of Wind River; and reached the neighborhood in 
which they had appointed the rendezvous with their com- 
panions. It was within the precincts of the Crow country; 
the Wind River valley being one of the favorite haunts of that 
restless tribe. After much searching. Captain Bonneville came 
upon a trail which had evidently been made by his main party. 
It was so old, however, that he feared his people might have 
left the neighborhood; driven off, perhaps, by some of those 
war parties * which were on the prowl. He continued his 
search with great anxiety, and no httle fatigue ; for his horses 
were jaded, and almost crippled, by their forced marches and 
scramblings through rocky defiles. 

On the following day, about noon. Captain Bonneville came 
upon a deserted camp of his people, from which they had evi- 
dently turned back; but he could find no signs to indicate 
why they had done so ; whether they had met with misfortune, 
or molestation, or in what direction they had gone. He was 
now more than ever perplexed. 

On the following day he resumed his march with increasing 
armety. The feet of his horses had by this time become so 
worn and wounded by the rocks, that he had to make mocca- 
riins for them of buffalo hide. About noon he came to another 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 167 



deserted camp of his men ; but soon after lost their trail. After 
great search, he once more found it, turning in a southerly di- 
rection along the eastern bases of the Wind River Mountains, 
which towered to the right. He now pushed forward with all 
possible speed, in hopes of overtaking the party. At night he 
slept at another of their camps, from which they had but re- 
cently departed. When the day dawned sufficiently to distin- 
guish objects, he perceived the danger that must be dogging 
the heels of his main party. All about the camp were traces 
of Indians who must have been prowling about it at the time 
his people had passed the night there ; and who must still be 
hovering about them. Convinced now that the main party 
could not be at any great distance, he mounted a scout on the 
best horse, and sent him forward to overtake them, to warn 
them of their danger, and to order them to halt, until he should 
rejoin them. 

In the afternoon, to his great jo^^, he met the scout return- 
ing, with six comrades from the main party, leading fresh 
horses for his accommodation ; and on the following day (Sep- 
tember 25th), all hands were once more reunited, after a sepa- 
ration of nearly three weeks. Their meeting was hearty and 
joyous ; for they had both experienced dangers and perplexi- 
ties. 

The main party, in pursuing their course up the Wind River 
valley, had been dogged the whole way by a war party of 
Crows. In one place they had been fired upon, but without 
injury; in another place, one of their horses had been cut 
loose, and carried off. At length, they were so closely beset 
that they were obliged to make a retrograde move, lest they 
should be surprised and overcome. This was the movement 
which had caused such perplexity to Captain Bonneville. 

The whole party now remained encamped for two or three 
days, to give repose to both men and horses. Some of the 
trappers, however, pursued their vocations about the neigh- 
boring streams. While one of them was setting his traps, he 
heard the tramp of horses, and looking up, beheld a party of 
Crow braves moving along at no great distance, with a consid- 
erable cavalcade. The trapper hastened to conceal himself, 
but was discerned by the quick eye of the savages. With 
whoops and yells, they dragged him from his hiding-place, 
flourished over his head their tomahawks and scalping-knives, 
and for a time the poor trapper gave himself up for lost. For- 
tunately the Crows were in a jocose rather than a sanguinary 



lG-8 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



mood. They amused themselves heartily for a while at the 
expense of his terrors, and after having played off divers 
Crow pranks and pleasantries, suffered him to depart un- 
harmed. It is true, they stripped him completely, one tak- 
ing his horse, another his gun, a third his traps, a fourth 
his blanket, and so on through all his accoutrements, and even 
his clothing, until he was stark naked; but then they genen 
ously made him a present of an old tattered buffalo robe, and 
dismissed him, with many v, omplimentary speeches and much 
laughter. When the trapper returned to the camp in such 
sorry plight, he was greeted v/ith peals of laughter from his 
comrades, and seemed more mortified by the style in which he 
had been dismissed, than rejoiced at escaping with his life. A 
circumstance which he related to Captain Bonneville gave 
some insight into the cause of this extreme jocularity on the 
part of the Crows. They had evidently had a run of luck, 
and, like winning gamblers, were in high good humor. Among 
twenty-six fine horses, and some mules, which composed their 
cavalcade, the trapper recognized a number which had be- 
longed to Fitzpatrick’s brigade, when they parted company on 
the Bighorn. It was supposed, therefore, that these vaga- 
bonds had been on his trail, and robbed him of part of his 
cavalry. 

On the day following this affair, three Crows came into Cap- 
tain Bonneville’s camp, with the most easy, innocent, if not 
impudent air imaginable ; walking about with that impertur- 
bable coolness and unconcern in which the Indian rivals the 
fine gentleman. As they had not been of the set which 
stripped the trapper, though evidently of the same band, 
they were not molested. Indeed, Captain Bonneville treated 
them with his usual kindness and hospitality ; permitting them 
to remain all day in the camp, and even to pass the night 
there. At the same time, however, he caused a strict watch 
to be maintained on all their movements and at night sta- 
tioned an armed sentinel near them. The Crows remonstrated 
against the latter being armed. This only made the captain 
suspect them to be spies, who meditated treachery; he re- 
doubled, therefore, his precautions. At the same time he as- 
sured his guests that while they were perfectly welcome to the 
shelter and comfort of his camp, yet, should any of their tribe 
venture to approach during the night, they would certainly be 
shot, which would be a very unfortunate circumstance, and 
much to be deplored. To the latter remark they fully as- 



ADVKNTUllKS OP CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 169 



rented, and shortly afterward commenced a wild song or 
chant, which they kept up for a long time, and in which 
they very probably gave their friends, who might be prowl- 
ing round the camp, notice that the white men wera on the 
alert. The night passed away without disturbance. In the 
morning the three Crow guests were very pressing that Cap- 
tain Bonneville and his party should accompany them to their 
camp, which they said was close by. Instead of accepting 
their invitation Captain Bonneville took his departure with 
aU possible dispatch, eager to be out of the vicinity of such 
a piratical horde; nor did he relax the diligence of his march 
until, on the second day, he reached the banks of the Sweet 
Water, beyond the limits of the Crow country, and a heavy 
fall of snow had obliterated all traces of his course. 

He now continued on for some few days, at a slower pace, 
round the point of the mountain tov^ard Green River, and ar- 
rived once more at the caches, on the 14th of October. 

Here they found traces of the band of Indians who had 
hunted them in the defile toward the head-waters of Wind 
River. Having lost all trace of them on their way over the 
mountains, they had turned and followed back their trail 
down the Green River valley to the caches. One of these 
they had discovered and broken open, but it fortunately con- 
tained nothing but fragments of old iron, which they had 
scattered about in all directions, and then departed. In ex- 
amining their deserted camp. Captain Bonneville discovered 
that it numbered thirty-nine fires, and had more reason than 
ever to congratulate himself on having escaped the clutches of 
such a formidable band of freebooters. 

He now turned his course southward, under cover of the 
mountains, and on the 25th of October reached Liberge’s Ford, 
a tributary of the Colorado, w^here he came suddenly upon the 
trail of this same war party, which had crossed the stream so 
recently that the banks were yet wet with, the water that had 
been splashed upon them. To judge from their tracks, they 
could not be less than three hundred warriors, and apparently 
of the Crow nation. 

Captain Bonneville was extremely uneasy lest this over- 
powering force should come upon him in some place where he 
would not have the means of fortifying himself promptly. He 
now moved toward Hane’s Fork, another tributary of the Col- 
orado, where he encamped, and remained during the 26th of 
October. Seeing a large cloud of smoke to the south, he sup- 



170 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



posed it to arise from some encampment of Shoshonies, and 
sent scouts to procure information, and to purchase a lodge. 
It was, in fact, a band of Shoshonies, but with them were en- 
camped Fitzpatrick and his party of trappers. That active 
leader had an eventful story to relate of his fortunes in the 
country of the Crows. After parting with Captain Bonneville 
on the banks of the Bighorn, he made for the west, to trap 
upon Powder and Tongue Eivers. He had between twenty 
and thirty men with him, and about one hundred horses. So 
large a cavalcade could not pass through the Crow country 
without attracting the attention of its freebooting hordes. A 
large band of Crows were soon on their traces, and came up 
with them on the 5th of September, just as they had reached 
Tongue River. The Crow chief came forward with great ap- 
pearance of friendship, and proposed to Fitzpatrick that they 
should encamp together. The latter, however, not having any 
faith in Crows, declined the invitation, and pitched his camp 
three miles off. He then rode over with two or three men, to 
visit the Crow chief, by whom he was received with great ap- 
parent cordiality. In the meantime, however, a party of 
young braves, who considered them absolved by his distrust 
from all scruples of honor, made a circuit privately, and 
dashed into his encampment. Captain Stewart, who had re- 
mained there in the absence of Fitzpatrick, behaved with great 
spirit ; but the Crows were too numerous and active. They 
had got possession of the camp, and soon made booty of every- 
thing — carrying off all the horses. On their way back they 
met Fitzpatrick returning to his camp ; and finished their ex- 
ploit by rifling and nearly stripping him. 

A negotiation took place between the plundered white men 
and the triumphant Crows ; what eloquence and management 
Fitzpatrick made use of we do not know, but he succeeded in 
prevailing upon the Crow chieftain to return him his horses 
and many of his traps, together with his rifles and a few 
rounds of ammunition for each man. He then set out with all 
speed to abandon the Crow country, before he should meet 
with any fresh disasters. 

After his departure, the consciences of some of the most 
orthodox Crows pricked them sorely for having suffered such 
a cavalcade to escape out of their hands. Anxious to wipe off 
so foul a stigma on the reputation of the Crow nation, they 
followed on his trail, nor quit hovering about him on his 
march until they had stolen a number of his best horses and 



ADVENTURES OF O APT AIN BONNEVILLE. 171 



mules. It was, doubtless, this same band which came upon 
the lonely trapper on the Popo Agie, and generously gave him 
an old buffalo robe in exchange for his rifle, his traps, and all 
his accoutrements. With these anecdotes, we shall, for the 
present, take our leave of the Crow country and its vagabond 
chivalry. 



CHAPTER XXVm. 

L REGION OP NATURAL CURIOSITIES— THE PLAIN OP WHITE CLAY 
— HOT SPRINGS— THE BEER SPRING— DEPARTURE TO SEEK THE 
PREE TRAPPERS — PLAIN OP PORTNEUP — LAVA— CHASMS AND 
GULLIES— BANNECK INDIANS — THEIR HUNT OP THE BUPPALO— 
hunters’ PEAST — TRENCHER HEROES — BULLYING OP AN AB- 
SENT POE— THE DAMP COMRADE — THE INDIAN SPY — MEETING 
WITH HODGKISS — HIS ADVENTURES — POORDEVIL INDIANS — 
TRIUMPH OP THE BANNECKS — BLACKFEET POLICY IN WAR. 

Crossing an elevated ridge, Captain Bonneville now came 
upon Bear River, which, from its source to its entrance into 
the Great Salt Lake, describes the flgures of a horse-shoe. 
One of the principal head waters of this river, although sup- 
posed to abound with beaver, has never been visited by the 
trapper; rising among rugged mountains, and being barri- 
cadoed by fallen pine trees and tremendous precipices. 

Proceeding down this river, the party encamped, on the 6th 
of November, at the outlet of a lake about thirty miles long, 
and from two to three miles in width, completely imbedded in 
low ranges of mountains, and connected with Bear River by 
an impassable swamp. It is called the Little Lake, to distin- 
guish it from the great one of salt water. 

On the 10th of November, Captain Bonneville visited a place 
in the neighborhood which is quite a region of natural curiosi- 
ties. An area of about half a mile square presents a level sur- 
face of white clay or fuller’s earth, perfectly spotless, resem- 
bling a great slab of Parian marble, or a sheet of dazzling 
snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful at all times; in sum- 
mer, when it is surrounded with verdure, or in autumn, when 
it contrasts its bright immaculate surface with the withered 
herbage. Seen from a discant eminence, it then shines like a 
mirror, set in the brown landscape. Around this plain ar© 



172 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



clustered numerous springs of various sizes and temperatures. 
One of them of scalding heat, boils furiously and incessantly, 
rising to the height of two or three feet. In another place there 
is an aperture in the earth from which rushes a column of 
steam that forms a perpetual cloud. The ground for some dis- 
tance around sounds hollow, and startles the solitary trapper, 
as he hears the tramp of his horse giving the sound of a 
muffled drum. He pictures to himself a mysterious gulf be- 
low, a place of hidden fires, and gazes round him with awe and 
uneasiness. 

The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region is 
the Beer Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts. 
They are said to turn aside from their route through the 
country to drink of its waters, with as much eagerness as the 
Arab seeks some famous weU of the desert. Captain Bonne 
ville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men drant 
it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear t( 
him to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce anj 
peculiar effects. The Indians, however, refuse to taste it, and 
endeavor to persuade the white men from doing so. 

We have heard this also called the Soda Spring, and de* 
scribed as containing iron and sulphur. It probably possesses 
some of the properties of the Ballston water. 

The time had now arrived for Captain Bonneville to go in 
quest of the party of free trappers, detached in the beginning 
of July, under the command of Mr. Hodgkiss to trap upon the 
head waters of Salmon Eiver. His intention was to unite 
them with the party with which he was at present travelling, 
that all might go into quarters together for the winter. Ac- 
cordingly, on the 11th of November, he took a temporary 
leave of his band, appointing a rendezvous on Snake River, 
and, accompanied by three men, set out upon his journey. His 
route lay across the plain of the Portneuf, a tributary stream 
of Snake River, called after an unfortunate Canadian trapper 
murdered by the Indians. The whole country through which 
he passed, bore evidence of volcanic convulsions and confla- 
grations in the olden time. Great masses of lava lay scattered 
about in every direction : the crags and cliffs had apparently 
been under the action of fire ; the rocks in some places seemed 
to have been in a state of fusion ; the plain was rent and split 
with deep chasms and gullies, some of which were partly filled 
with lava. 

They had not proceeded far, however, before they saw a 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. I73 



party of horsemen galloping full tilt toward them. They 
instantly turned, and made full speed for the covert of a 
woody stream, to fortify themselves among the trees. The 
Indians came to a halt, and one of them came forward alone. 
He reached Captain Bonneville and his men just as they were 
dismounting and about to post themselves. A few words 
dispelled all uneasiness. It was a party of twenty-five Baiv 
neck Indians, friendly to the whites, and they proposed, 
through their envoy, that both parties should encamp to- 
gether, and hunt the buffalo, of which they had discovered 
several large herds hard by. Captain Bonneville cheerfully 
assented to their proposition, being curious to see their man- 
ner of hunting. 

Both parties accordingly encamped together on a convenient 
spot, and prepared for the hunt. The Indians first posted a 
boy on a small hill near the camp, to keep a lookout for 
enemies. The “runners,” then, as they are called, mounted 
on fleet horses, and armed with bows and arrows, moved 
slowly and cautiously toward the buffalo, keeping as much as 
possible out of sight, in hollows and ravines. When within 
a proper distance, a signal was given, and they all opened at 
once like a pack of hounds, with a full chorus of yells, dashing 
into the midst of the herds, and launching their arrows to the 
right and left. The plain seemed absolutely to shake under 
the tramp of the buffalo, as they scoured off. The cows in 
headlong panic, the bulls furious with rage, uttering deep 
roars, and occasionally turning with a desperate rush upon 
their pursuers. Nothing could surpass the spirit, grace, and 
dexterity, with which the Indians managed their horses; 
wheehng and coursing among the affrighted herd, and launch- 
ing their arrows with unerring aim. In the midst of the 
apparent confusion, they selected their victims with perfect 
judgment, generally aiming at the fattest of the cows, the 
flesh of the bull being nearly worthless at this season of the 
year. In a few minutes, each of the hunters had crippled 
three or four cows. A single shot was sufficient for the pur- 
pose, and the animal, once maimed, was left to be completely 
dispatched at the end of the chase. Frequently a cow was 
killed on the spot by a single arrow. In one instance. Captain 
Bonneville saw an Indian shoot his arrow completely through 
the body of a cow, so that it struck in the ground beyond. 
The bulls, however, are not so easily killed as the cows, and 
always cost the hunter several arrows, sometimes making 



174 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



battle upon the horses, and chasing them furiously, though 
severely wounded, with the darts still sticking in their flesh. 

The grand scamper of the hunt being over, the Indians 
proceeded to dispatch the animals that had been disabled; 
then cutting up the carcasses, they returned with loads of 
meat to the camp, where the choicest pieces were soon roast- 
ing before large fires, and a hunters’ feast succeeded ; at which 
Captain Bonneville and his men were qualified, by previous 
fasting, to perform their parts with great vigor. 

Some men are said to wax valorous upon a full stomach, 
and such seemed to be the case with the Banneck braves, 
who, in proportion as they crammed themselves with buffalo 
meat, grew stout of heart, until, the supper at an end, they 
began to chant war songs, setting forth their mighty deeds, 
and the victories they had gained over the Blackfeet. Warm- 
ing with the theme, and inflating themselves with their own 
eulogies, these magnanimous heroes of the trencher would 
start up, advance a short distance beyond the fight of the 
fires, and apostrophize most vehemently their Blackfeet 
enemies, as though they had been within hearing. Ruffling 
and swelling, and snorting, and slapping their breasts, and 
brandishing their arms, they would vociferate all their ex- 
ploits ; reminding the Blackfeet how they had drenched their 
toY/ns in tears and blood; enumerate the blows they had 
inflicted, the warriors they had slain, the scalps they had 
brought off in triumph. Then, having said everything that 
could stir a man’s spleen or pique his valor, they would dare 
their imaginary hearers, now that the Bannecks were few in 
number, to come and take their revenge — receiving no reply 
to this valorous bravado, they would conclude by all kinds of 
sneers and insults, deriding the Blackfeet for dastards and 
poltroons, that dared not accept their challenge. Such is the 
kind of swaggering and rhodomontade in which the ‘‘red 
men” are prone to indulge in their vainglorious moments ; for, 
with all their vaunted taciturnity, they are vehemently prone 
at times to become eloquent about their exploits, and to sound 
their own trumpet. 

Having vented their valor in this fierce effervescence, the 
Banneck braves gradually calmed down, lowered their crests, 
smoothed their ruffled feathers, and betook themselves to 
sleep, without placing a single guard over their camp; so that, 
had the Blackfeet taken them at their word, but few of these 
braggart her<^cis might have survived for any further boasting. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. Yit) 



On the following morning, Captain Bonneville purchased a 
supply of buffalo meat from his braggadocio friends; who, 
with all their vaporing, were in fact a very forlorn horde, 
destitute of firearms, and of almost everything that consti- 
tutes riches in savage life. The bargain concluded, the Ban- 
necks set off for their vOlage, which was situated, they said, 
at the mouth of the Portneuf , and Captain Bonneville and his 
companions shaped their course toward Snake Eiver. 

Arrived on the banks of that river, he found it rapid and 
boisterous, but not too deep to be forded. In traversing it, how- 
ever, one of the horses was swept suddenly from his footing, 
and his rider was flung from the saddle into the midst of the 
stream. Both horse and horseman were extricated without any 
damage, excepting that the latter was completely drenched, so 
that it was necessary to kindle a fire to dry him. . While they 
were thus occupied, one of the party looking up, perceived an 
Indian scout cautiously reconnoitring them from the summit 
of a neighboring hill. The moment he found himself discov- 
ered, he disappeared behind the hill. From his furtive move- 
ments, Captain Bonneville suspected him to be a scout from 
the Blackfeet camp, and that he had gone to report what he 
had seen to his companions. It would not do to loiter in such 
a neighborhood, so the kindling of the fire was abandoned, the 
drenched horseman mounted in dripping condition, and the 
little band pushed forward directly into the plain, going at a 
smart pace, until they had gained a considerable distance from 
the place of supposed danger. Here encamping for the night, 
in the midst of abundance of sage, or wormwood, which af- 
forded fodder for their horses, they kindled a huge fire for the 
benefit of their damp comrade, and then proceeded to prepare a 
sumptuous supper of buffalo humps and ribs, and other choice 
bits, which they had brought with them. After a hearty re- 
past, relished with an appetite unknown to city epicures, they 
stretched themselves upon their couches of skins, and under 
the starry canopy of heaven, enjoyed the sound and sweet sleep 
of hardy and well-fed mountaineers. 

They continued on their journey for several days, without 
any incident worthy of notice, and on the 19th of November, 
came upoxi traces of the party of which they were in search; 
such as burned patches of prairie, and deserted camping 
grounds. All these were carefully examined, to discover, by 
their freshness or antiquity the probable time that the trap- 
pers had left them; at length, after much wandering and in- 



176 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



vestigating, they came upon the regular trail of the hunting 
party, which led into the mountains, and following it up 
briskly, came about two o’clock in the afternoon of the 20th, 
upon the encampment of Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
pers, in the bosom of a mountain valley. 

It will be recollected that these free trappers, who were 
masters of themselves and their movements, had refused to 
accompany Captain Bonneville back to Green River in the 
preceding month of July, preferring to trap about the upper 
waters of the Salmon River, where they expected to find 
plenty of beaver, and a less dangerous neighborhood. Their 
hunt had not been very successful. They had penetrated the 
great range of mountains among which some of the upper 
branches of Salmon River take their rise, but had become so 
entangled among immense and almost impassable barricades 
of fallen pines, and so impeded by tremendous precipices, that 
a great part of their season had been wasted among these 
mountains. At one time they had made their way through 
them, and reached the Boisee River ; but meeting with a band 
of Banneck Indians, from whom they apprehended hostilities, 
they had again taken shelter among the mountains, where 
they were found by Captain Bonneville. In the neighborhood 
of their encampment, the captain had the good fortune to meet 
with a family of those wanderers of the mountains, emphatically 
called ‘Ges dignes de pitie,” or Poordevil Indians. These, how- 
ever, appear to have forfeited the title, for they had with them 
a fine lot of skins of beaver, elk, deer, and mountain sheep. 
These, Captain Bonneville purchased from them at a fair valua- 
tion, and sent them olf astonished at their own wealth, and no 
doubt objects of envy to all their pitiful tribe. 

Being now reinforced by Hodgkiss and his band of free trap- 
pers, Captain Bonneville put himself at the head ©f the united 
parties, and set out to rejoin those he had recently left at the 
Beer Spring that they might all go into winter quarters on 
Snake River. On this route, he encountered many heavy falls 
of snow, which melted almost immediately, so as not to impede 
his march, and on the 4th of December, he found his other 
party, encamped at the very place where he had partaken in 
the buffalo hunt with the Bannecks. 

That braggart horde was encamped but about three miles off, 
and were just then in high glee and festivity, and more swag- 
gering than ever, celebrating a prodigious victory. It appeared 
that a party of their braves being out on a hunting excursion, 



ADYEjSTUUliti OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 177 



discovered a band of Blackfeet moving, as they thought, to 
surprise their hunting camp. The Bannecks immediately 
posted themselves on each side of a dark ravine, through 
which the enemy must pass, and, just as they were entangled 
in the midst of it, attacked them with great fury. The Biack- 
feet, struck with sudden panic, threw off their buffalo robes 
and fled, leaving one of their warriors dead on the spot. The 
victors eagerly gathered up the spoils ; but their greatest prize 
was the scalp of the Blackfoot brave. This they bore off in 
triumph to the village, where it had ever sinice been an object 
of the greatest exultation and rejoicing. It had been elevated 
upon a pole in the centre of the village, where the warriors 
had celebrated the scalp dance round it, with war feasts, war 
songs, and warlike harangues. It had then been given up to 
the women and boys ; who had paraded it up and down the 
village with shouts and chants and antic dances; occasionally 
saluting it with all kinds of taunts, invectives, and revilings. 

The Blackfeet, in this affair, do not appear to have acted up 
to the character which has rendered them objects of such ter- 
ror. Indeed, their conduct in war, to the inexperienced ob- 
server is full of inconsistencies ; at one time they are headlong 
in courage, and heedless of danger; at another time cautious 
almost to cowardice. To understand these apparent incongru- 
ities, one must know their principles of warfare. A war party, 
however triumphant, if they lose a warrior in the fight, bring 
back a cause of mourning to their people, which casts a shade 
over the glory of their achievement. Hence, the Indian is 
often less fierce and reckless in general battle than he is in a 
private brawl ; and the chiefs are checked in their boldest un- 
dertakings by the fear of sacrificing their warriors. 

This peculiarity is not confined to the Blackfeet. Among the 
Osages, says Captain Bonneville, when a warrior falls in battle, 
his comrades, though they have fought with consummate valor, 
and won a glorious victory, will leave their arms upon the field 
of battle, and returning home with dejected countenances, will 
halt without the encampment, and wait until the relatives of 
the slain come forth and invite them to mingle again with 
their people. 



178 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

WINTER CAMP AT TEE PORTNEUP — FINE SPRINGS— THE BANNBCK 
INDIANS— THEIR HONESTY — CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE PREPARES 
FOR AN EXPEDITION— CHRISTMAS— THE AMERICAN PALLS— WILD 
SCENERY— FISHING FALLS— SNAKE INDIANS— SCENERY ON THE 
BRUNEAU— VIEW OP VOLCANIC COUNTRY FROM A MOUNTAIN- 
POWDER RIVER— SHOSHOKOES, OR ROOT DIGGERS— THEIR CHAR- 
ACTER, HABITS, HABITATIONS, DOGS— VANITY AT ITS LAST SHIFT. 

In establishing his winter camp near the Portneuf, Captain 
Bonneville had drawn off to some little distance from liis Ban- 
neck friends, to avoid aU annoyance from their intimacy or 
intrusions. In so doing, however, he had been obliged to take 
up his quarters on the extreme edge of the flat land, where he 
was encompassed with ice and snow, and had nothing better 
for his horses to subsist on than wormwood. The Bannecks, 
on the contrary, were encamped among fine springs of water, 
where there was grass in abundance. Some of these springs 
gush out of the earth in sufficient quantity to turn a mill ; and 
furnish beautiful streams, clear as crystal, and full of trout of 
a large size ; which may be seen darting about the transparent 
water. 

Winter now set in regularly. The snow had fallen fre- 
quently, and in large quantities, and covered the ground to the 
depth of a foot ; and the continued coldness of the weather pre- 
vented any thaw. 

By degrees, a distrust which at first subsisted between the 
Indians and the trappers, subsided, and gave way to mutual 
confidence and good-will. A few presents convinced the chiefs 
that the white men were their friends; nor were the white men 
wanting in proofs of the honesty and good faith of their savage 
neighbors. Occasionally, the deep snow and the want of fod- 
der obliged them to turn their weakest horses out to roam in 
quest of sustenance. If they at any time strayed to the camp 
of the Bannecks, they were immediately brought back. It 
must be confessed, however, that if the stray horse happened, 
by any chance, to be in vigorous plight and good condition, 
though he was equally sure to be returned by the heneBt Ban- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. ]79 



necks, yet it was always after the lapse of several days, and in 
a very gaunt and jaded state; and always with the remark 
that they had foimd him a long way off. The uncharitable 
were apt to surmise that he had, in the interim, been well used 
up in a buffalo hunt; but those accustomed to Indian morality 
in the matter of horseflesh, considered it a singular evidence of 
honesty that he should be brought back at all. 

Being convinced, therefore, from these, and other circum- 
stances, that his people were encamped in the neighborhood of 
a tribe as honest as they were valiant, and satisfied that they 
would pass their winter unmolested. Captain Bonneville pre- 
pared for a reconnoitring expedition of great extent and peril. 
This was, to penetrate to the Hudson’s Bay establishments on 
the banks of the Columbia, and to make himself acquainted 
with the country and the Indian tribes ; it being one part of his 
scheme to establish a trading post somewhere on the lower 
part of the river, so as to participate in the trade lost to the 
United States by the capture of Astoria. This expedition 
would, of course, take him through the Snake Eiver country, 
and across the Blue Mountains, the scenes of so much hardship 
and disaster to Hunt and Crooks, and their Astorian bands, 
who first explored it, and he would have to pass through it in 
the same frightful season, the depth of winter. 

The idea of risk and hardship, however, only served to stim- 
ulate the adventurous spirit of the captain. He chose three 
companions for his journey, put up a small stock of necessaries 
in the most portable form, and selected five horses and mules 
for themselves and their baggage. He proposed to rejoin his 
band in the early part of March, at the winter encampment 
near the Portneuf. All these arrangements being completed, 
he mounted his horse on Christmas morning, and set off with 
his three comrades. They halted a little beyond the Banneck 
camp, and made their Christmas dinner, which, if not a very 
merry, was a very hearty one, after which they resumed their 
journey. 

They were obliged to travel slowly, to spare their horses; for 
the snow had increased in depth to eighteen inches; and 
though somewhat packed and frozen, was not suflSciently so to 
yield firm footing. Their route lay to the west, down along 
the left side of Snake Eiver; and they were several days in 
reaching the first, or American Falls. The banks of the river, 
for a considerable distance, both above and below the falls, 
have a volcanic character ; masses of basaltic rock are piled 



180 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



one upon another; the water makes its way through their 
broken chasms, boiling through narrow channels, or pitching 
in beautiful cascades over ridges of basaltic colunms. 

Beyond these falls, they came to a picturesque, but incon- 
siderable stream, called the Cassie. It runs through a level 
valley, about four miles wide, where the soil is good ; but the 
prevalent coldness and dryness of the climate is unfavorable to 
vegetation. Near to this stream there is a small mountain of 
mica slate, including garnets. Granite, in small blocks, is 
likewise seen in this neighborhood, and white sandstone. 
From this river, the travellers had a prospect of the snowy 
heights of the Salmon River Mountains to the north; the 
nearest, at least fifty miles distant. 

In pursuing his course westward. Captain Bonneville gener- 
ally kept several miles from Snake River, crossing the heads 
of its tributary streams ; though he often found the open coun- 
try so encumbered by volcanic rocks, as to render travelling 
extremely difficult. Whenever he approached Snake River, 
he found it running through a broad chasm, with steep, per- 
pendicular sides of basaltic rock. After several days’ travel 
across a level plain, he came to a part of the river which filled 
him with astonishment and admiration. As far as the eye 
could reach, the river was walled in by perpendicular cliffs 
two hundred and fifty feet high, beetling like dark and gloomy 
battlements, while blocks and fragments lay in masses at their 
feet, in the midst of the boiling and whirling current. Just 
above, the whole stream pitched in one cascade above forty 
feet in height, with a thundering sound, casting up a volume 
of spray that hung in the air like a silver mist. These are 
called by some the Fishing Falls, as the salmon are taken here 
in immense quantities. They cannot get by these falls. 

After encamping at this place all night. Captain Bonneville, 
at sunrise, descended with his party through a narrow ravine, 
or rather crevice, in the vast wall of basaltic rock which bor- 
dered the river ; this being the only mode, for many miles, of 
getting to the margin of the stream. 

The snow lay in a thin crust along the banks of the river, so 
that their travelling was much more easy than it had been 
hitherto. There were foot tracks, also, made by the natives, 
which greatly facilitated their progress. Occasionally, they 
met the inhabitants of this wild region ; a timid race, and but 
scantily provided with the necessaries of life. Tl>eir dress con- 
sisted of a mantle about four feet square, form<'^ of strips of 



ADymruREs of captain Bonneville. igi 



rabbit skins sewed together; this they hung over their sboii! 
dors, in the ordinary Indian mode of wearing the blanket. 
Their weapons were bows and arrows ; the latter tipped with 
obsidian, which abounds in the neighborhood. Their huts were 
shaped like haystacks, and constructed of branches of willow 
covered with long grass, so as to be warm and comfortable. 
Occasionally, they were surrounded by small inclosures of 
wormwood, about three feet high, which gave them a cottage- 
like appearance. Three or four of these tenements were oc- 
casionally grouped together in some wild and striking situa- 
tion, and had a picturesque effect. Sometimes they were in 
sufficient number to form a small hamlet. From these people 
Captain Bonneville’s party frequently purchased salmon, dried 
in an admirable manner, as were likewise the roes. This 
seemed to be their prime article of food ; but they were ex- 
tremely anxious to get buffalo me^t in exchange. 

The high walls and rocks, within whicii the travellers ha/ 
been so long inclosed, now occasionally presented opening , 
through which they were enabled to ascend to the plain, a x 
to cut off considerable bends of the river. 

Throughout the whole extent of this vast and singular cha n, 
the scenery of the river is said to be of the most wild and ro- 
mantic character. The rocks present every variety of mat^ses 
and grouping. Numerous small streams come rushing and 
boiling through narrow clefts and ravines ; one of a considerable 
size issued from the face of a precipice, within twenty-five feet 
of its summit ; and after running in nearly a horizontal Sine for 
about one hundred feet, fell, by numerous small cascades, to 
the rocky bank of the river. 

In its career through this vast and singular (JU-file, Snake 
River is upward of three hundred yards wide, and as clear as 
spring water. Sometimes it steals along with a tranquil and 
noiseless course; at other times, for miles and miles, it dashes 
on in a thousand rapids, wild and beautiful to the eye, and 
lulhng the ear with the soft tumult of plashing waters. 

Many of the tributary streams of Snake River, rival it in the 
wildness and picturesqueness of their sce^iery. That called the 
Bruneau is particularly cited. It runs through a tremendous 
chasm, rather than a vaUey, extending upward of a hundred 
and fifty miles. You come upon it on a sudden, in traversing 
a level plain. It seems as if you could throw a stone across 
from cliff to cliff ; yet, the valley is near two thousand feet 
deep; so that the river looks like an inconsiderable stream. 



18S ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



Basaltic rocks rise perpendicularly, so that it is impossible to 
get from the plain to the water, or from the rivei’ margin to 
the plain. The current is bright and limpid. Hot springs are 
found on the borders of this river. One bursts out of the cliffs 
forty feet above the river in a stream sufficient to turn a mill, 
and sends up a cloud of vapor. 

We find a characteristic picture of this volcanic region of 
mountains and streams, furnished by the journal of Mr. 
Wyetn, which lies before us; who ascended a peak in the 
neighborhood we are describing. From this summit, the coun- 
try, he says, appears an indescribable chaos; the tops of the 
hills exhibit the same strata as far as the eye can reach ; and 
appear to have once formed the level of the country ; and the 
valleys to be formed by the sinking of the earth, rather than 
the rising of the hills. Through the deep cracks and chasms 
thus formed, the rivers and brooks make their way, which 
renders it difficult to follow them. All these basaltic channels 
are called cut rocks by the trappers. Many of the mountain 
streams disappear in the plains; either absorbed by their 
thirsty soil, and by the porous surface of the lava, or swallowed 
up in gulfs and chasms. 

On the 12th of January (1834), Captain Bonneville reached 
Powder River ; much the largest stream that he had seen since 
leaving the Portneuf. He struck it about three miles above 
its entrance into Snake River. Here he found himself above 
the lower narrows and defiles of the latter river, and in an 
open and level country. The natives now made their appear 
ance in considerable numbers, and evinced the most insatiable 
curiosity respecting the white men ; sitting in groups for hours 
together, exposed to the bleakest winds, merely for the pleas- 
ure of gazing upon the strangers, and watching every move- 
ment. These are of that branch of the great Snake tribe 
called Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers, from their subsisting, in a 
great measure, on the roots of the earth; though they likewise 
take fish in great quantities, and hunt, in a small way. They 
are, in general, very poor ; destitute of most of the comforts of 
life, and extremely indolent; but a mild, inoffensive race. 
They differ, in many respects, from the other branch of the 
Snake tribe, the Shoshonies; who possess horses, are more 
roving and adventurous, and himt the buffalo. 

On the following day, as Captain Bonneville approached the 
mouth of Powder River, he discovered at least a hundred fami- 
lies of these Diggers, as they are familiarly called, assembled 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 183 



in one place. The women and children kept at a distance, 
perched among the rocks and cliffs ; their eager curiosity being 
somewhat dashed with fear. From their elevated posts, they 
scrutinized the strangers with the most intense earnestness; 
regarding them with almost as much awe as if they had beerx 
beings of a supernatural order. 

The men, however, were by no means so shy and reserved ; 
but importuned Captain Bonneville and his companions exces- 
sively by their curiosity. Nothing escaped their notice; and 
any thing they could lay their hands on, underwent the most 
minute examination. To get rid of such inquisitive neighbors, 
tne travellers kept on for a considerable distance, before they 
encamped for the night. 

The country, hereabout, was generally level and sandy ; pro- 
ducing very little grass, but a considerable quantity of sage or 
wormwood. The plains were diversified by isolated hills, all 
cut off as it were, about the same height, so as to have tabular 
summits. In this they resembled the isolated hills of the great 
prairies, east of the Eocky Mountains ; especially those found 
on the plains of the Arkansas. 

The high precipices which had hitherto walled in the chan- 
nel of Snake River had now disappeared ; and the banks were 
of the ordinary height. It should be observed, that the great 
valleys or plains, through which the Snake River wound its 
course, were generally of great breadth, extending on each side 
from thirty to forty miles ; where the view was bounded by 
unbroken ridges of mountains. 

The travellers found but little snow in the neighborhood of 
Powder River, though the weather continued intensely cold. 
They learned a lesson, however, from their forlorn friends, the 
Root Diggers, which they subsequently found of great service 
in their wintry wanderings. They frequently observed them 
to be furnished with long ropes, twisted from the bark of the 
wormwood. This they used as a slow match, carrying it 
always lighted. Whenever they wished to warm themselves, 
they would gather together a little dry wormwood, apply the 
match, and in an instant produce a cheering blaze. 

Captain Bonneville gives a cheerless account of a village of 
these Diggers, which he saw in crossing the plain below Pow- 
der River. “They live,” says he, “without any further pro- 
tection from the inclemency of the season, than a sort of 
breakweather, about three feet high, composed of sage (or 
wormwood), and erected around them in the shape of a half 



184 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



moon.” Whenever he met with them, however, they had al 
ways a large suite of half -starved dogs ; for these animals, in 
savage as well as in civihzed life, seem to be the concomitants 
of beggary. 

These dogs, it must be allowed, were of more use than the 
beggarly curs of cities. The Indian children used them in 
hunting the small game of the neighborhood, such as rabbits 
and prairie dogs; in which mongrel kind of chase they ac° 
quitted themselves with some credit. 

Sometimes the Diggers aspire to a nobler game, and succeed 
in entrapping the antelope, the fleetest animal of the prairies. 
The process by which this is effected is somewhat singular. 
When the snow has disappeared, says Captain Bonneville, and 
the ground become soft, the women go into the thickest fields 
of wormwood, and pulling it up in great quantities, construct 
with it a hedge about three feet high, inclosing about a hundred 
acres. A single opening is left for the admission of the game. 
This done, the women conceal themselves behind the worm- 
wood, and wait patiently for the coming of the antelopes; 
which sometimes enter this spacious trap in considerable num- 
bers. As soon as they are in, the women give the signal, and 
the men hasten to play their part. But one of them enters the 
pen at a time ; and, after chasing the terrified animals round 
the inclosure, is relieved by one of his companions. In this 
way the hunters take their turns, relieving each other, and 
keeping up a continued pursuit by relays, without fatigue to 
themselves. The poor antelopes, in the end, are so wearied 
down, that the whole party of men enter and dispatch them 
with clubs ; not one escaping that has entered the inclosure. 
The most curious circumstance in this chase is, that an animal 
so fleet and agile as the antelope, and straining for its life, 
should range round and round this fated inclosure, without 
attempting to overleap the low barrier which surrounds it. 
Such, however, is said to be the fact; and such their only mode 
of hunting the antelope. 

Notwithstanding the absence of all comfort and convenience 
in their habitations, and the general squalidness of their appear- 
ance, the Shoshokoes do not appear to be destitute of ingenuity. 
They manufacture good ropes, and even a tolerably fine thread, 
from a sort of weed found in their neighborhood ; and construct 
bowls and jugs out of a kind of basket-work formed from small 
strips of wood plaited; these, by the aid of a little wax, they 
render perfectly water tight. Beside the roots on which they 



ADVEjSTUUES of captain BONNEVILLE. 186 



mainly depend for subsistence, they collect great quantities of 
seed, of various kinds, beaten with one hand out of the tops of 
the plants into wooden bowls held for that purpose. The seed 
thus collected is winnowed and parched, and ground between 
two stones into a kind of meal or flour ; which, v/hen mixed 
with water, forms a very palatable paste or gruel. 

Some of these people, more provident and industrious than 
the rest, lay up a stock of dried salmon, and other fish, for 
winter ; with these, they were ready to trafiic with the travel- 
lers for any objects of utility in Indian life ; giving a large 
quantity in exchange for an awl, a knife, or a fish-hook. 
Others were in the most abject state of want and starvation ; 
and would even gather up the fish-bones which the travellers 
threw away after a repast, warm them over again at the fire, 
and pick them with the greatest avidity. 

The farther Captain Bonneville advanced into the country 
of these Boot Diggers, the more evidence he perceived of their 
rude and forlorn condition, ‘‘ They were destitute,” says he, 
of the necessary covering to protect them from the weather; 
and seemed to be in the most unsophisticated ignorance of any 
other propriety or advantage in the use of clothing. One old 
dame had absolutelynothing on her person but a thread round 
her neck, from which was pendant a solitary bead.” 

What stage of human destitution, however, is too destitute 
for vanity ! Though these naked and forlorn-looking beings 
had neither toilet to arrange, nor beauty to contemplate, their 
gi'eatest passion was for a mirror. It was a “ great medicine,’ 
in their eyes. The sight of one was sufficient, at any time, to 
throw them into a paroxysm of eagerness and delight; and 
they were ready to give anything they had for the smallest 
fragment in which they might behold their squalid features. 
With this simple instance of vanity, in its primitive but vigor- 
ous state, we shall close our remarks on the Boot Diggers. 



186 ADVEJSTmiES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

TEMPERATURE OF THE CLIMATE— ROOT DIGGERS ON HORSEBACK 
— -AN INDIAN GUIDE — MOUNTAIN PROSPECTS— THE GRAND ROND 
— DIFFICULTIES ON SNAKE RIVER— A SCRAMBLE OVER THE 
BLUE MOUNTAINS— SUFFERINGS FROM HUNGER— PROSPECT OF 
THE IMMAHAH VALLEY — THE EXHAUSTED TRAVELLER. 

The temperature of the regions west of the Rocky Mountains 
is much milder than in the same latitudes on the Atlantic side ; 
the upper plains, however, which lie at a distance from the sea- 
coast are subject in winter to considerable vicissitude ; being 
traversed by lofty “sierras,” crowned with perpetual snow, 
which often produce flaws and streaks of intense cold. This 
was experienced by Captain Bonneville and his companions in 
their progress westward. At the time when they left the 
Bannecks, Snake River was frozen hard; as they proceeded, 
the ice became broken and floating; it gradually disappeared, 
and the weather became warm and pleasant, as they ap- 
proached a tributary stream called the Little Wyer; and the 
soil, which was generally of a watery clay, with occasional in- 
tervals of sand, was soft to the tread of the horses. After a 
time, however, the mountains approached and flanked the 
river, the snow lay deep in the valleys, and the current was 
once more icebound. 

Here they were visited by a party of Root Diggers, who 
were apparently rising in the world, for they had “a horse to 
ride and weapon to wear,” and were altogether better clad and 
equipped than any of the tribe that Captain Bonneville had 
met with. They were just from the plain of Boisee River, 
where they had left a number of their tribe, all as well pro- 
vided as themselves, having guns, horses, and comfortable 
clothing. All these they obtained from the Lower Nez Perces, 
with whom they were in habits of frequent trafiic. They ap- 
peared to have imbibed from that tribe their non-combative 
principles, being mild and inoffensive in their manners. Like 
them, also, they had something of religious feelings ; for Cap- 
tain Bonneville observed that, before eating they washed their 
hands and made a short prayer; which he understood was 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 187 



their invariable custom. From these Indians he obtained a 
considerable supply of fish, and an excellent and well-condi- 
tioned horse, to replace one which had become too weak for 
the journey. 

The travellers now moved forward with renovated spirits; 
the snow, it is true, lay deeper and deeper as they advanced, 
but they trudged on merrily, considering themselves well 
provided for the journey, which could not be of much longer 
duration. 

They had intended to proceed up the banks of Gun Creek, a 
stream which flows into Snake River from the west ; but were 
assured by the natives that the route in that direction was 
impracticable. The latter advised them to keep along Snake 
River, where they would not be impeded by the snow. Tak- 
ing one of the Diggers for a guide they set off along the river, 
and to their joy soon found the country free from snow, as 
had been predicted, so that their horses once more had the 
benefit of tolerable pasturage. Their Digger proved an excel- 
lent guide, trudging cheerily in the advance. He made an 
unsuccessful shot or two at a deer and a beaver; but at night 
found a rabbit hole, whence he extracted the occupant, upon 
which, with the addition of a fish given by the travellers, he 
made a hearty supper, and retired to rest, filled with good 
cheer and good humor. 

The next day the travellers came to where the hiUs closed 
upon the river, leaving here and there intervals of undulating 
meadow land. The river was sheeted with ice, broken into 
hills at long intervals. The Digger kept on ahead of the party, 
crossing and recrossing the river in pursuit of game, until, 
unluckily, encountering a brother Digger, he stole off with 
him, without the ceremony of leave-taking. 

Being now left to themselves, they proceeded until they 
came to some Indian huts, the inhabitants of which spoke 
a language totally different from any they had yet heard. 
One, however, understood the Nez Perce language, and 
through him they made inquiries as to their route. These 
Indians were extremely kind and honest, and furnished them 
with a small quantity of meat ; but none of them could be in- 
duced to act as guides. 

Immediately in the route of the travellers lay a high moun- 
tain, which they ascended with some difficulty. The prospect 
from the summit was grand but disheartening. Directly be- 
fpre them towered the loftiest peaks of Immahah rising far 



188 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



higher than the elevated ground on which they stood ; on the 
other hand, they were enabled to scan the course of the river, 
dashing along through deep chasms, between rocks and preci- 
pices, until lost in a distant wilderness of mountains, which 
closed the savage landscape. 

They remained for a long time contemplating, with per- 
plexed and anxious eye, this wild congregation of mountain 
barriers, and seeking to discover some . practicable passage. 
The approach of evening obliged them to give up the task, and 
to seek some camping ground for the night. Moving briskly 
forward, and plunging and tossing through a succession of 
deep snow-drifts, they at length reached a valley known 
among trappers as the “ Grand Eond,” which they found 
entirely free from snow. 

This is a beautiful and very fertile valley, about twenty 
miles long and five or six broad ; a bright cold stream called 
the Fourche de Glace, or Ice Eiver, runs through it. Its 
sheltered situation, embosomed in mountains, renders it good 
pasturing ground in the winter time ; when the elk come down 
to it in great numbers, driven out of the mountains by the 
snow. The Indians then resort to it to hunt. They likewise 
come to it in the summer to dig the camash root, of which it 
produces immense quantities. When this plant is in blossom, 
the whole valley is tinted by its blue fiowers, and looks like 
the ocean when overcast by a cloud. 

After passing a night in this valley, the travellers in the 
morning scaled the neighboring hills, to look out for a more 
eligible route than that upon which they had unluckily fallen ; 
and, after much reconnoitring determined to make their way 
once more to the river, and to travel upon the ice when the 
banks should prove impassable. 

On the second day after this determination, they were again 
upon Snake Eiver, but, contrary to their expectations, it was 
nearly free from ice. A narrow ribbon ran along the shore, 
and sometimes there was a kind of bridge across the stream, 
formed of old ice and snow. For a short time, they jogged 
along the bank, with tolerable facility, but at length came to 
where the river forced its way into the heart of the mountains, 
winding between tremendous walls of basaltic rock, that rose 
perpendicularly from the water’s edge, frowning in bleak and 
gloomy grandeur. ' Here difliculties of all kinds beset their 
path. The snow was from two to three feet deep, but soft and 
yielding, so that the horses had no foothold, but kept plunging 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 189 



forward, straining themselves by perpetual efforts. Some- 
times the crags and promontories forced them upon the 
narrow ribbon of ice that bordered the shore ; sometimes they 
had to scramble over vast masses of rock which had tumbled 
from the impending precipices ; sometimes they had to cross 
the stream upon the hazardous bridges of ice and snow, sink- 
ing to the knee at every step ; sometimes they had to scale 
slippery acclivities, and to pass along narrow cornices, glazed 
with ice and sleet, a shouldering wall of rock on one side, a 
yawning precipice on the other, where a single false step would 
have been fatal. In a lower and less dangerous pass, two of 
their horses actually fell into the river; one was saved with 
much difficulty, but the boldness of the shore prevented their 
rescuing the other, and he was swept away by the rapid 
current. 

In this way they struggled forward, manfuUy braving diffi- 
culties and dangers, until they came to where the bed of the 
river was narrowed to a mere chasm, with perpendicular 
walls of rock that defied all further progress. Turning’ their 
faces now to the mountain, they endeavored to cross directly 
over it; but, after clambering nearly to the summit, found 
their path closed by insurmountable barriers. 

Nothing now remained but to retrace their steps. To 
descend a cragged mountain, however, was more difficult and 
dangerous than to ascend it. They had to lower themselves, 
cautiously and slowly, from steep to steep ; and, while they 
managed with difficulty to maintain their own footing, to aid 
their horses by holding on firmly to the rope halters, as the 
poor animals stumbled among slippery rocks, or slid down icy 
declivities. Thus, after a day of intense cold, and severe and 
incessant toil, amid the wildest of scenery, they managed, 
about nightfall, to reach the camping ground from which they 
had started in the morning, and for the first time in the course 
of their rugged and perilous expedition, felt their hearts quail- 
ing under their multiplied hardships. 

A hearty supper, a tranquillizing pipe, and a sound night’s 
sleep, put them all in better mood, and in the morning they 
held a consultation as to their future movements. About four 
miles behind, they had remarked a small ridge of mountains 
approaching closely to the river. It was determined to scale 
this ridge, and seek a passage into the valley which must lie 
beyond. Should they fail in this, but one alternative re- 
mained. To kill their horses, dry the fiesh for provisions. 



190 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



make boats of the hides, and, in these, commit themselves to 
the stream, a measure hazardous in the extreme. 

A short march brought them to the foot of the mountain, 
but its steep and cragged sides almost discouraged hope. The 
only chance of scaling it was by broken masses of rock, piled 
one upon another, which formed a succession of crags, reach- 
ing nearly to the summit. Up these they wrought their way 
with indescribable difficulty and peril, in a zigzag course, 
climbing from rock to rock, and helping their horses up after 
them ; which scrambled among the crags like mountain goats ; 
now and then dislodging some huge stone, which, the moment 
they had left it, would roll down the mountain, crashing and 
rebounding with terrific din. It was some time after dark 
before they reached a kind of platfoimi on the summit of the 
mountain, where they could venture to encamp. The winds, 
which swept this naked height, had whirled all the snow into 
the valley beneath, so that the horses found tolerable winter 
pasturage on the dry grass which remained exposed. The 
travellers, though hungry in the extreme, were fain to make a 
very frugal supper; for they saw their journey was likely to 
be prolonged much beyond the anticipated term. 

In fact, on the following day they discerned that, although 
already at a great elevation, they were only as yet upon the 
shoulder of the mountain. It proved to be a great sierra, or 
ridge, of immense height, running parallel to the course of 
the river, swelhng by degrees to lofty peaks, but the outline 
gashed by deep and precipitous ravines. This, in fact, was a 
part of the chain of Blue Mountains, in which the first adven- 
turers to Astoria experienced such hardships. 

We will not pretend to accompany the travellers step by 
step in this tremendous mountain scramble, into which they 
had unconsciously betrayed themselves. Day after day did 
their toil continue; peak after peak had they to traverse, 
struggling with difficulties and hardships known only to the 
mountain trapper. As their course lay north, they had to 
ascend the southern faces of the heights, where the sun had 
melted the snow, so as to render the ascent wet and slippery, 
and to keep both men and horses continually on the strain; 
while on the northern sides, the snow lay in such heavy masses 
that it was necessary to beat a track down which the horses 
might be led. Every now and then, also, their way was im- 
peded by taU and numerous pines, some of which had fallen, 
and lay in every direction. 



AB VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 191 



In" the midst of these toils and hardships, their provisions 
gave out. For three days they were without food, and so re- 
duced that they could scarcely drag themselves along. At 
length, one of the mules being about to give out from fatigue 
and famine, they hastened to dispatch him. Husbanding this 
miserable supply, they dried the flesh, and for three days sub- 
sisted upon the nutriment extracted from the bones. As to 
the meat, it was packed and preserved as long as they could 
lo without it, not knowing how long they might remain be- 
wildered in these desolate regions. 

One of the men was now dispatched ahead, to reconnoitre 
the country, and to discover, if possible, some more practi- 
cable route. In the meantime, the rest of the party moved 
on slowly. After a lapse of three days, the scout rejoined 
them. He informed them that Snake Eiver ran immediately 
below the sierra or mountainous ridge upon which they were 
travelling; that it was free from precipices, and was at no 
great distance from them in a direct line ; but that it would be 
impossible for them to reach it without making a weary cir- 
cuit. Their only course would be to cross the mountain ridge 
to the left. 

Up this mountain, therefore, the weary travellers directed 
their steps; and the ascent, in their present weak and ex- 
hausted state, was one of the severest parts of this most pain- 
ful journey. For two days were they toiling slowly from cliff 
to cliff, beating at every step a path through the snow for their 
faltering horses. At length they reached the summit, where 
the snow was blown off; but in descending on the opposite 
side they were often plunging through deep drifts piled in the 
hollows and ravines. 

Their provisions were now exhausted, and they and their 
horses almost ready to give out with fatigue and hunger; when 
one afternoon, just as the sun was sinking behind a blue line 
of distant mountain, they came to the brow of a height from 
which they beheld the smooth valley of the Immahah stretched 
out in smiling verdure below them. 

The sight inspired almost a frenzy of delight. Roused to 
new ardor, they forgot for a time their fatigues, and hurried 
down the mountain, dragging their jaded horses after them, 
and sometimes compelling them to slide a distance of thirty or 
forty feet at a time. At length they reached the banks of the 
Immahah. The young grass was just beginning to sprout, and 
the whole valley wore an espcct of softness, verdure, and rc- 



192 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



pose, heightened by the contrast of the frightful region from 
which they had just descended. To add to their joy, ^ they ob- 
served Indian trails along the margin of the stream, and other 
signs, which gave them reason to believe that there was an en- 
campment of the Lower Nez Perces in the neighborhood, as it 
was within the accustomed range of that pacific and hospitable 
tribe. 

The prospect of a supply of food stimulated them to new 
exertion, and they continued on as fast as the enfeebled state 
of themselves and their steeds would permit. At length, one 
of the men, more exhausted than the rest, threw himself upon 
the grass, and declared he could go no further. It was in vain 
to attempt to arouse him ; his spirit had given out, and his re- 
phes only showed the dogged apathy of despair. His com- 
panions, therefore, encamped on the spot, kindled a blazing 
fire, and searched about for roots with which to strengthen 
and revive him. They all then made a starveling repast ; 
but gathering round the fire, talked over past dangers and 
troubles, soothed themselves with the persuasion that all were 
now at an end, and went to sleep with the comforting hope 
that the morrow would bring them into plentiful quarters. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

PROGRESS IN THE VALLEY— AN INDIAN CAVALIER— THE CAPTAIN 
FALLS INTO A LETHARGY— A NEZ PERCE PATRIARCH— HOSPITA- 
BLE TREATMENT — THE BALD HEAD — BARGAINING -VALUE OP AN 
OLD PLAID CLOAK- THE FAMILY HORSE— THE COST OP AN IN- 
DIAN PRESENT. 

A TRANQUIL night’s rest had sufficiently restored the broken 
down traveller to enable him to resume his wayfaring, and aU 
hands set forward on the Indian trail. With all their eager- 
ness to arrive within reach of succor, such was their feeble and 
emaciated condition that they advanced but slowly. Nor is it 
a matter of surprise that they should almost have lost heart, as 
well as strength. It was now (the 16 th of February) fifty-three 
days that they had been travelling in the midst of winter, ex- 
posed to all kinds of privations and hardships ; and for the last 
twenty days they had been entangled in the wild and desolate 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 193 



labyrinths of the snowy mountains ; climbing and descending 
icy precipices, and nearly starved with cold and hunger. 

All the morning they continued following the Indian trail, 
without seeing a human being, and were beginning to be dis- 
couraged when, about noon, they discovered a horsemen at a 
distance. He was coming directly toward them; but on dis- 
covering them, suddenly reined up his steed, came to a halt, 
and, after reconnoitring them for a time with great earnest- 
ness, seemed about to make a cautious retreat. They eagerly 
made signs of peace, and endeavored^ with the utmost anxiety, 
to induce him to approach. He remained for some time in 
doubt ; but at length, having satisfied himself that they were 
not enemies, came galloping up to them. He was a fine, 
haughty-looking savage, fancifully decorated, and mounted on 
a high-mettled steed, with gaudy trappings and equipments. 
It was evident that he was a warrior of some consequence 
among his tribe. His whole deportment had something in it 
of barbaric dignity ; he felt perhaps his temporary superiority 
in personal array, and in the spirit of his steed, to the poor, 
ragged, travel- worn trappers and their half-starved ' horses. 
Approaching them with an air of protection, he gave them his 
hand, and, in the Nez Perce language invited them to his 
camp, which was only a few miles distant ; where he had plenty 
to eat, and plenty of horses, and would cheerfully share his 
good things with them. 

His hospitable invitation was joyfully accepted ; he lingered 
but a moment, to give directions by which they might find his 
camp, and then, wheeling round, and giving the reins to his 
mettlesome steed, was soon out of sight. The travellers fol- 
lowed, with gladdened hearts, but at a snail’s pace ; for their 
poor horses could scarcely drag one leg after the other. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, however, experienced a sudden and singular 
change of feeling. Hitherto, the necessity of conducting his 
party, and of providing against every emergency, had kept liis 
mind upon the stretch, and his whole system braced and ex- 
cited. In no one instance had he flagged in spirit or felt dis° 
posed to succumb. Now, however, that all danger v/as over, 
and the march of a few miles would bring them to repose and 
abundance, his energies suddenly deserted him; and every 
faculty, mental and physical, was totally relaxed. He had not 
proceeded two miles from the point where he had had the in- 
terview with the Nez Perce chief, when he threw himself upon 
the earth, without the power or will to move a muscle, or exert 



194 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



a thought, and sank almost instantly into a profound and 
dreamless sleep. His companions again came to a halt, and 
encamped beside him, and there they passed the night. 

The next morning Captain Bonneville awakened from his 
long and heavy sleep, much refreshed ; and they all resumed 
their creeping progress. They had not long been on the march 
when eight or ten of the Nez Perce tribe came galloping to 
meet them, leading fresh horses to bear them to their camp. 
Thus gallantly mounted, they felt new life infused into their 
languid frames, and dashing forward, were soon at the lodges 
of the Nez Perces. Here they found about twelve families liv- 
ing together, :*ider the patriarchal sway of an ancient and 
venerable chief. He received them with the hospitality of the 
golden age, and with something of the same kind of fare ; for, 
while he opened his arms to make them welcome, the only re- 
past he set before them consisted of roots. They could have 
wished for something more hearty and substantial; but, for 
want of better, made a voracious meal on these humble viands. 
The repast being over, the best pipe was lighted and sent 
round ; and this was a most welcome luxury, having lost their 
smoking apparatus twelve days before, among the mountains. 

While they were thus enjoying themselves, their poor horses 
were led to the best pastures in the neighborhood, where they 
were turned loose to revel on the fresh sprouting grass ; so that 
they had better fare than their masters. 

Captain Bonneville soon felt himself quite at home among 
th^se quiet, inoffensive people. His long residence among their 
cousins, the Upper Nez Perces, had made him conversant with 
their language, modes of expression, and all their habitudes. 
He soon found, too, that he was well known among them, by 
report, at least, from the constant interchange of visits and 
messages between the two branches of the tribe. They at first 
addressed him by his name ; giving him his title of captain, 
with a French accent ; but they soon gave him a title of their 
own which, as usual with Indian titles, had a peciihar signifi- 
cation. In the case of the captain, it had somewhat of a whim- 
sical origin. 

As he sat chatting and smoking in the midst of them, he 
would occasionally take off his cap. Whenever he did so, 
there was a sensation in the surrounding circle. The Indians 
would half rise from their recumbent posture, and gaze upon 
his uncovered head with their usual exclamation of astonish- 
ment. The worthy captain was completely bald; a phenom- 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. igr; 



enon very surprising in their eyes. They were at a loss to 
know whether he had been scalped in battle, or enjoyed a nat- 
ural immunity from that belligerent infliction. In a little 
while he became known among them by an Indian name, sig- 
nifying ‘ ‘ the bald chief. ” ‘ ' A sobriquet, ” observes the captain, 
“for which I can find no parallel in history since the days of 
Charles the Bald.” 

Although the travellers had banqueted on roots, and been re- 
galed with tobacco smoke, yet their stomachs craved more 
generous fare. In approaching the lodges of the Nez Perces 
they had indulged in fond anticipations of venison and dried 
salmon; and dreams of the kind still haunted their imagina- 
tions, and could not be conjured down. The keen appetites 
of mountain trappers, quickened by a fortnight’s fasting, at 
length got the better of all scruples of pride, and they fairly 
begged some fish or fiesh from the hospitable savages. The 
latter, however, were slow to break in upon their winter store, 
which was very limited ; but were ready to furnish roots in 
abundance, which they pronounced excellent food. At length, 
Captain BonneviUe thought of a means of attaining the much- 
coveted gratification. 

He had about him, he says, a trusty plaid ; an old and valued 
travelling companion and comforter; upon which the rains had 
descended, and the snows and winds beaten, without further 
effect than somewhat to tarnish its primitive lustre. This coat 
of many colors had excited the admiration, and inflamed the 
covetousness of both warriors and squaws to an extravagant 
degree. An idea now occurred to Captain Bonneville, to con- 
vert this rainbow garment into the savory viands so much de- 
sired. There was a momentary struggle in his mind between 
old associations and projected indulgence ; and his decision in 
favor of the latter was made, he says, with a greater prompt- 
ness perhaps, than true taste and sentiment might have re- 
quired. In a few moments his plaid cloak was cut into 
numerous strips. “ Of these,” continues he, “ with the newly 
developed talent of a man-miUiner, I speedily constructed 
turbans a la Turque, and fanciful head-gears of divers confor- 
mations. These, judiciously distributed among such of the 
womenkind as seemed of most consequence and interest in 
the eyes of the patres conscripti, brought us, in a little while, 
abundance of dried salmon and deers’ hearts, on which we 
made a sumptuous supper. Another, and a more satisfactory 
smoke, succeeded this repast, and sweet slumbers answering 



196 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



the peaceful invocation of our pipes, wrapped us in that deli 
cious rest which is only won by toil and travail.” 

As to Captain Bonneville, he slept in the lodge of the vener 
able patriarch, who had evidently conceived a most disin- 
terested affection for him ; as was shown on the following 
morning. The travellers, invigorated by a good supper, and 
“ fresh from the bath of repose,” were about to resume their 
journey, when this affectionate old chief took the captadn 
aside, to let him know how much he loved him. As a proof of 
his regard, he had determined to give him a fine horse, which 
would go farther than words, and put his good-will beyond ail 
question. So saying, he made a signal, and forthwith a beau- 
tiful young horse, ol a brown color, was led, prancing and 
snorting, to the place. Captain Bonneville was suitably affected 
by this mark of friendship ; but his experience in what is pro- 
verbially called ‘‘ Indian giving,” made him aware that a part- 
ing pledge was necessary on liis own part, to prove that his 
friendship was reciprocated. He accordingly placed a hand- 
some rifle in the hands of the venerable chief, whose benevo- 
lent heart was evidently touched and gratified by this outward 
and visible sign of amity. 

Having now, as he thought, balanced this little account of 
friendship, the captain v/as al 30 ut to shift his saddle to this 
noble gift-horse, when the affectionate patriarch plucked him 
by the sleeve, and introduced to him a whimpering, whining, 
leathern- skinned old squaw, that might have passed for an 
Egyptian mummy without drying. ‘‘This,” said he, “is my 
wife; she is a good wife— I love her very much. — She loves the 
horse— she loves him a great deal — she will cry very much at 
losing him. — I do not know how I shall comfort her— and that 
makes my heart very sore.” 

What could the worthy captain do to console the tender- 
hearted old squaw and, perad venture, to save the venerable 
patriarch from a curtain lecture ? He bethought himself of a 
pair of ear-bobs ; it was true, the patriarch’s better half was of 
an age and appearance that seemed to put personal vanity out 
of the question, but when is personal vanity extinct ? The mo- 
ment he produced the glittering ear-bobs, the whimpering and 
whining of the sempiternal beldame was at an end. She 
eagerly placed the precious baubles in her ears, and, though as 
ugly as the Witch of Endor, went off with a sideling gait, and 
coquettish air, as though she had been a perfect Semiramis. 

The captain had now saddled his newly acquired steed, and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



197 



his foot was in the stirrup, when the affectionate patriarch 
again stepped forward, and presented to him a young Pierced- 
nose, who had a peculiarly sulky look. ‘‘This,” said the ven- 
erable chief, ‘As my son; he is very good; a great horseman— 
he always took care of this very fine horse— he brought him up 
from a colt, and made him what he is. He is very fond of this 
fine horse — he loves him like a brother — his heart will be very 
heavy when this fine horse leaves the camp.” 

What could the captain do, to reward the youthful hope of 
this venerable pair, and comfort him for the loss of his foster- 
brother, the horse? He bethought him of a hatchet, which 
might be spared from his slender stores. No sooner did he 
place the instrument into the hands of the young hopeful, than 
his countenance brightened up, and he w^ent off rejoicing in his 
hatchet to the full as much as did his respectable mother in 
her ear-bobs. 

The captain was now in the saddle, and about to start, when 
the affectionate old patriarch stepped forward for the third 
time, and, while he laid one hand gently on the mane of the 
horse, held up the rifle in the other. “This rifle,” said he, 
“shall be my great medicine. I will hug it to my heart— I 
will always love it, for the sake of my good friend, the bald- 
headed chief. But a rifle, by itself, is dumb — I cannot make it 
speak. If I had a little powder and ball, I would take it out 
with me, and would now and then shoot a deer; and when I 
brought the meat home to my hungry family, I would say — 
This was killed by the rifle of my friend, the bald-headed chief, 
to whom I gave that very fine horse.” 

There was no resisting this appeal; the captain forthwith 
furnished the coveted supply of powder and ball ; but at the 
same time put spurs to his very fine gift-horse, and the first 
trial of his speed was to get out of all further manifestation of 
friendship on the part of the affectionate old patriarch and his 
insinuating family. 



198 ADVENTUlWS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

NEZ PERCE CAMP— A CHIEF WITH A HARD NAME - THE BIG 
HEARTS OP THE EAST— HOSPITABLE TREATMENT — THE INDIAN 
GUIDES— jMYSTERIOUS COUNCILS— THE LOQUACIOUS CHIEF— IN- 
DIAN TOMB— GRAND INDIAN RECEPTION— AN INDIAN FEAST— 
TOWN-CRIERS— HONESTY OP THE NEZ PERCES— THE CAPTAIN’S 
ATTEMPT AT HEALING. 

Following the course of the Immahah, Captain Bonneville 
and his three companions soon reached the vicinity of Snake 
River. Their route now lay over a succession of steep and iso- 
lated hills, with profound valleys. On the second day after 
taking leave of the affectionate old patriarch, as they were 
descending into one of those deep and abrupt intervals, they 
descried a smoke, and shortly afterward came in sight of a 
small encampment of Nez Perces. 

The Indians, when they ascertained that it was a party of 
white men approaching, greeted them with a salute of firearms, 
and invited them to encamp. This band was likewise under 
the sway of a venerable chief named Yo-mus-r o-y -e-cut ; a 
name which we shall be careful not to inflict oftener than is 
necessary upon the reader. This ancient and hard-named 
chieftain welcomed Captain Bonneville to his camp with the 
same hospitality and loving kindness that he had experienced 
from his predecessor. He told the captain he had often heard 
of the Americans and their generous deeds, and that liis buf- 
falo brethren (the Upper Nez Perces) had always spoken of 
them as the Big-hearted whites of the East, the very good 
friends of the Nez Perces. 

Captain Bonneville felt somewhat uneasy under the responsi- 
bility of this magnanimous but costly appellation ; and began 
to fear he might be involved in a second interchange of 
pledges of friendship. He hastened, therefore, to let the old 
chief know his poverty-stricken state, and how little there was 
to be expected from him. 

He informed him that he and his comrades had long resided 
n.mong the Upper Nez Perces, and loved them so much that 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 199 



they had thrown their arms around them, and now held them 
close to their hearts. That he had received such good accounts 
from the Upper Nez Perces, of their cousins, the Lower Nez 
Perces, that he had become desirous of knowing them as 
friends and brothers. That he and his companions had accord^ 
ingly loaded a mule with presents and set off for the country 
of the Lower Nez Perces; but, unfortunately, had been en- 
trapped for many days among the snowy mountains; and 
that the mule with all the presents had fallen into Snake 
Kiver, and been swept away by the rapid current. That in- 
stead, therefore, of arriving among their friends, the Nez 
Perces, with light hearts and full hands, they came naked, 
hungry, and broken down ; and instead of making them pres> 
ents, must depend upon them even for food. “But,” com 
eluded he, “ we are going to the white men’s fort on the Wal- 
lah Wallah, and will soon return; and then we will meet our 
Nez Perce friends like the true Big Hearts of the East.” 

Whether the hint thrown out in the latter pait of the speech 
had any effect, or whether the old chief acted from the hospita- 
ble feelings which, according to the captain, are really inhe- 
rent in the Nez Perce tribe, he certainly showed no disposition 
to relax his friendship on learning the destitute circumstances 
of his guests. On the contrary, he urged the captain to re- 
main with them until the following day, when he would accom- 
pany him on his journey, and make him acquainted with all 
his people. In the meantime he would have a colt killed, and 
cut up for travelling provisions. This, he carefully explained, 
was intended not as an article of traffic, but as a gift ; for he 
saw that his guests were hungry and in need of food. 

Captain Bonneville gladly assented to this hospitable ar- 
rangement. The carcass of the colt was forthcoming in due 
season, but the captain insisted that one half of it should be set 
apart for the use of the chieftain’s family. 

At an early hour of the following morning the httle party 
resumed their journey, accompanied by the old chief and an 
Indian guide. Their route was over a rugged and broken 
country; where the hills were slippery with ice and snow. 
Their horses, too, were so weak and jaded that they could 
scarcely climb the steep ascents or maintain their foothold on 
the frozen declivities. Throughout the whole of the journey, 
the old chief and the guide were unremitting in their good of- 
fices, and continually on the alert to select the host roads, and 
assist them through all difficulties. Indeed the captain and 



200 ADVENTUBES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



his comrades had to be dependent on their Indian friends for 
almost everything, for they had lost their tobacco and pipes, 
those great comforts of the trapper, and had but a few charges 
of powder left, which it was necessary to husband for the pur- 
pose of lighting their fires. 

In the course of the day the old chief had several private 
consultations with the guide, and showed evident signs of 
being occupied with some mysterious matter of mighty im- 
port. What it was, Captain Bonneville could not fathom, nor 
did he make much effort to do so. From some casual sen- 
tences that he overheard, he perceived that it was something 
from which the old man promised himself much satisfaction, 
and to which he attached a little vainglory, but which he 
wished to keep a secret; so he suffered him to spin out his 
petty plans unmolested. 

In the evening when they encamped, the old chief and his 
privy counsellor, the guide, had another mysterious colloquy, 
after which the guide mounted his horse and departed on 
some secret mission, while the chief resumed his seat at the 
fire, and sat humming to himself in a pleasing but mystic rev- 
erie. 

The next morning the travellers descended into the valley of 
the Way' lee- way, a considerable tributary of Snake River. 
Here they met the guide returning from his secret errand. 
Another private conference was held between him and the old 
managing chief, who now seemed more infiated than ever 
with mystery and self-importance. Numerous fresh trails, 
and various other signs persuaded Captain Bonneville that 
there must be a considerable village of Nez Perces in the 
neighborhood; but as his worthy companion, the old chief, 
said nothing on the subject, and as it appeared to be in some 
way connected with his secret operations, he asked no ques- 
tions, but patiently awaited the development of his mystery. 

As they journeyed on they came to where two or three Indi- 
ans were bathing in a small stream. The good old chief imme^ 
diately came to a halt, and had a long conversation with them, 
in the course of which he repeated to them the whole history 
which Captain Bonneville had related to him. In fact, he 
seems to have been a very sociable, communicative old man; 
by no means aOicted with that taciturnity generally charged 
upon the Indians. On the contrary, he was fond of long talks 
and long smokings, and evidently was proud of his new friend, 
the bald-headed chief, and took a pleasure in soupdiiig his 



ABVEjSTVIIES of CAPTAnsr BOF NEVILLE. 201 



praises, and setting forth the power and glory of the Big 
Hearts of the East. 

Having disburdened himself of everything he had to relate 
to his bathing friends, he left them to their aquatic disports, 
and proceeded onward with the captain and his companions. 
As they approached the Way-lee-way, however, the communi- 
cative old chief met with another and a very different occasion 
to exert his colloquial powers. On the banks of the river stood 
an isolated mound covered with grass. He pointed to it witli 
some emotion. “ The big heart and the strong arm,” said he, 
“ lie buried beneath that sod.” 

It was, in fact, the gra,ve of one of his friends; a chosen 
warrior of the tribe ; who had been slain on this spot wlien in 
pursuit of a war party of Shoshokoes, who had stolen the 
norses of the village. The enemy bore off his scalp as a 
trophy ; but his friends found his body in this lonely place, and 
commJtted it to the earth with ceremonials characteristic of 
their pious and reverential feelings. They gathered round the 
grave and mourned; the warriors were silent in their grief; 
but the women and children bewailed their loss with loud 
lamentations. ‘‘For three days,” said the old man, “we per- 
formed the solemn dances for the dead, and prayed the Great 
Spirit that our brother might be happy in the land of brave 
warriors and hunters. Then we killed at his grave fifteen of 
our best and strongest horses, to serve him when he should 
arrive at the happy hunting grounds; and having done all 
this, we returned sorrowfully to our homes. ” 

While the chief was still talking an Indian scout came gal- 
loping up and, presenting him with a powder horn, wheeled 
round, and was speedily out of sight. The eyes of the old 
chief now brightened; and all his self-importance returned. 
His petty mystery was about to explode. Turning to Captain 
Bonneville, he pointed to a hill hard by, and informed him 
that behind it was a village governed by a little chief, whom 
he had notified of the approach of the bald-headed chief, and 
a party of the Big Hearts of the East, and that he was pre- 
pared to receive them in becoming style. As, among other 
ceremonials, he intended to salute them with a discharge of 
firearms, he had sent the horn of gunpowder that they might 
return the salute in a manner correspondent to his dignity. 

They now proceeded on until they doubled the point of the 
hill, when the whole population of the village broke upon their 
view, drawn out in the most imposing style, and arrayed in aU 



202 ADVENTU11E8 OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE 



their finery. The effect of the whole was wild and fantastic, 
yet singidarly striking. In the front rank were the chiefs and 
principal warriors, glaringly painted and decorated; behind 
them were arranged the rest of the people, men, women, and 
children. 

Captain Bonneville and his party advanced slowly, exchang- 
ing salutes of firearms. When arrived within a respectful 
distance they dismounted. The chiefs then came forward suc- 
cessively, according to their respective characters and conse- 
quence to offer the hand of good-fellowship; each filing off 
when he had shaken hands, to make way for his successor. 
Those in the next rank followed in the same order, and so on, 
until all had given the pledge of friendship. During all this 
time, the chief, according to custom, took his stand beside the 
guests. If any of his people advanced whom he judged un- 
worthy of the friendship or confidence of the white men, he 
motioned them off by a wave of the hand, and they would sub- 
missively walk away. When Captain Bonneville turned upon 
him an inquiring look, he would observe, ‘ ‘ he was a bad man,” 
or something quite as concise, and there was an end of the 
matter. 

Mats, poles, and other materials were now brought, and a 
comfortable lodge was soon erected for the strangers, where 
they were kept constantly supplied with wood and water, and 
other necessaries; and all their effects were placed in safe- 
keeping. Their horses, too, were unsaddled, and turned loose 
to graze and a guard set to keep watch upon them. 

All this being adjusted they were conducted to the main 
building or council house of the village, where an ample repast, 
or rather banquet, was spread, which seemed to realize all the 
gastronomical dreams that had tantalized them during their 
long starvation ; for here they beheld not merely fish and roots 
in abundance, but the flesh of deer and elk, and the choicest 
pieces of buffalo meat. It is needless to say how vigorously 
they acquitted themselves on this occasion, and how unneces- 
sary it was for their hosts to practise the usual cramming prin- 
ciple of Indian hospitality. 

* When the repast was over a long talk ensued. The chief 
showed the same curiosity evinced by his tribe generally, to 
obtain information concerning the United States, of which 
they knew little but what they derived through their cousins, 
the Upper Nez Perces; as their traffic is almost exclusively 
with the British traders of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Cap- 



ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. go;} 



tain Bonneville did his best to set forth the merits of his 
nation, and the importance of their friendship to the red men, 
in which he was ably seconded by his worthy friend, the old 
chief with the hard name, who did all that he could to glorify 
the Big Hearts of the East. 

The chief and all present listened with profound attention, 
and evidently with great interest; nor were the important 
facts thus set forth confined to the audience in the lodge ; for 
sentence after sentence was loudly repeated by a crier for the 
benefit of the whole village. 

This custom of promulgating everything by criers is not 
confined to the Nez Perces, but prevails among many other 
tribes. It has its advantage where there are no gazettes to 
publish the news of the day, or to report the proceedings of 
important meetings. And in fact, reports of this kind, viva 
voce, made in the hearing of all parties, and liable to be con- 
tradicted or corrected on the spot, are more hkely to convey 
accurate information to the public mind than those circulated 
through the press. The office of crier is generally filled by 
some old man, who is good for little else. A village has gener- 
ally several of these walking newspapers, as they are termed 
by the whites, who go about proclaiming the news of the day, 
giving notice of public councils, expeditions, dances, feasts, 
and other ceremonials, and advertising anything lost. While 
Captain Bonneville remained among the Nez Perces, if a glove, 
handkerchief, or anything of similar value, was lost or mislaid, 
it was carried by the finder to the lodge of the chief, and proc- 
lamation was made by one of their criers, for the owner to 
come and claim his property. 

How difficult it is to get at the true character of these wan- 
dering tribes of the wilderness ! In a recent work, we have 
had to speak of this tribe of Indians from the experience of 
other traders who had casually been among them, and who 
represented them as selfish, inhospitable, exorbitant in their 
dealings and much addicted to thieving.* Captain Bonneville, 
on the contrary, who resided much among them, and had re- 
peated opportunities of ascertaining their real character, in- 
variably speaks of them as kind and hospitable, scrupulously 
honest, and remarkable above all other Indians that he had 
met with for a strong feeling of religion. In fact, so enthusi- 
astic is he in their praise, that he pronounces them, all igno- 



* Vide Astoria, chap. lii. 



204 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



rant and barbarous as they are by their condition, one of the 
purest-hearted people on the face of the earth. 

Some cures which Captain Bonneville had effected in simple 
cases, among the Upper Nez Perces, had reached the ears of 
their cousins here, and gained for him the reputation of a 
great medicine man. He had not been long in the village, 
therefore, before his lodge began to be the resort of the sick 
and the infirm. The captain felt the value of the reputation 
thus accidentally and cheaply acquired, and endeavored to 
sustain it. As he had arrived at that age when every man is, 
experimentally, something of a physician, he wa.s enabled to 
turn to advantage the little knowledge in the healing ail 
which he had casually picked up; and was sufficiently sue 
cessful in two or three cases, to convince the simple Indians 
that report had not exaggerated his medical talents. The only 
patient that effectually baffled his skill, or rather discouraged 
any attempt at relief, was an antiquated squaw with a church- 
yard cough, and one leg in the grave ; it being shrunk and ren- 
dered useless by a rheumatic affection. This was a case beyond 
his mark ; however, he comforted the old woman with a promise 
that he would endeavor to procure something to relieve her, at 
the fort on the Wallah- Wallah, and would bring it on his re- 
turn ; with which assurance her husband was so well satisfied 
that he presented the captain with a colt, to be killed as pro- 
visions for the journey ; a medical fee which was thankfully 
accepted. 

While among these Indians Captain Bonneville unexpectedly 
found an owner for the horse which he had purchased from a 
Boot Digger at the Big Wyer. The Indian satisfactorily proved 
that the horse had been stolen from him some time previous, 
by some unknown thief. “However,” said the considerate 
savage, ^ ‘ you got him in fair trade — you are more in want of 
horses than I am; keep him; he is yours— he is a good horse; 
use him well.” 

Thus, in the continual experience of acts of kindness and 
generosity, which his destitute condition did not allow him to 
reciprocate. Captain Bonneville passed some short time among 
these good people, more and more impressed with the general 
excellence of their character. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 20fi 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

SCENERY OF THE WAY-LEE- WAY— A SUBSTITUTE FOR TOBACCO- 
SUBLIME SCENERY OF SNAKE RIVER — THE GARRULOUS OLD 
CHIEF AND HIS COUSIN — A NEZ PERCE MEETING — A STOLEN 
SKIN— THE SCAPEGOAT DOG— MYSTERIOUS CONFERENCES— THE 
LITTLE CHIEF— HIS HOSPITALITY— THE CAPTAIN’S ACCOUNT OF 
THE UNITED STATES — HIS HEALING SKILL. 

In resuming his journey, Captain Bonneville was conducted 
by the same Nez Perce guide, whose knowledge o " the country 
was important in choosing the routes and resting-places. He 
also continued to be accompanied by the worthy old chief with 
the hard name, who seemed bent upon doing the honors of the 
country, and introducing him to every branch of ~ his tribe. 
The Way-lee-way, down the banks of which Captain Bonne- 
ville and his companions were now travelhng, is a considera- 
ble stream winding through a succession of bold and beautiful 
scenes. Sometimes the landscape towered into bold and moun- 
tainous heights that partook of sublimity; at other times it 
stretched along the water side in fresh smiling meadows and 
grateful undulating valleys. 

Frequently in their route they encountered small parties of 
the Nez Perces, with whom they invariably stopped to shake 
hands ; and who, generally, evinced great curiosity concerning 
them and their adventures ; a curiosity which never failed to 
be thoroughly satisfied by the replies of the worthy Yo-mus- 
ro-y-e-cut, who kindly took upon himself to be spokesman of 
the party. 

The incessant smoking of pipes incident to the long talks of 
this excellent, but somewhat garrulous old chief, at length ex- 
hausted all his stock of tobacco, so that he had no longer a 
whiff with which to regale his white companions. In this 
emergency he cut up the stem of his pipe into fine shavings, 
which he mixed with certain herbs, and thus manufactured a 
temporary succedaneum to enable him to accompany his long 
colloquies and harangues with the customary fragrant cloud. 

If the scenery of the Way-lee-way had charmed the travel- 
lers with its mingled amenity and grandeur, that which broke 



i06 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



upon them on once more reaching Snake River, filled them 
with admiration and astonishment. At timea, the river was 
overhung by dark and stupendous rocks, rising like gigantic 
walls and battlements ; these would he rent by wide and yawn- 
ing chasms, that seemed to speak of past convulsions of nature. 
Sometimes the river was of a glassy smoothness and placidity, 
at other times it roared along in impetuous rapids and foaming 
cascades. Here, the rocks were piled in the most fantastic 
crags and precipices; and in another place they were suc- 
ceeded by delightful valleys carpeted with greensward. The 
whole of this wild and varied scenery was dominated by im- 
mense mountains rearing their distant peaks into the clouds. 
‘‘The grandeur and originality of the views presented on 
every side,” says Captain Bonneville, “beggar both the pencil 
and the pen. Nothing we had ever gazed upon in any other 
region could for a moment compare in wild majesty and im- 
pressive sternness with the series of scenes which here at 
every turn astonished our senses and filled us with awe and 
delight.” 

Indeed, from all that we can gather from the journal before 
us, and the accounts of other travellers, who passed through 
these regions in the memorable enterprise of Astoria, we are 
inclined to think that Snake River must be one of the most re- 
markable for varied and striking scenery of all the rivers of 
this continent. From its head-waters in the Rocky Moun- 
tains, to its junction with the Columbia, its windings are up- 
ward of six hundred miles through every variety of landscape. 
Rising in a volcanic region, amid extinguished craters, and 
mountains awful with the traces of ancient fires, it makes its 
way through great plains of lava and sandy deserts, penetrates 
vast sierras or mountainous chains, broken into romantic and 
often frightful precipices, and crowned with eternal snows; 
and at other times careers through green and smiling mead- 
ows and wdde landscapes of Italian grace and beauty. Wild- 
ness and sublimity, however, appear to be its prevailing char- 
acteristics. 

Captain BonneviUe and his companions had pursued their 
journey a considerable distance down the course of Snake 
River, when the old chief halted on the bank, and dismounting, 
recommended that they should turn their horses loose to graze, 
while he summoned a cousin of his from a group of lodges on 
the opposite side of the stream. His summons was quickly 
answered. An Tn^^ian, of an active, elastic form, leaped into a 



ADVENT U EES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 207 



light canoe of cotton-wood, and vigorously plying the paddle, 
soon shot across the river. Bounding on shore, he advanced 
with a buoyant air and frank demeanor, and gave his right 
hand to each of the party in turn. The old chief, whose hard 
name we forbear to repeat, now presented Captain Bonneville, 
in form, to his cousin, whose name, we regret to say, was no 
less hard, being nothing less than Hay-she-in-cow-cow. The 
latter evinced the usual curiosity to know all about the stran- 
gers, whence they came, whither they were going, the object 
of their journey, and the adventures they had experienced. 
All these, of course, were amply and eloquently set forth by 
the conimunicative old chief. To all his grandiloquent account 
of the bald-headed chief and his countrymen, the Big Hearts 
of the East, his cousin hstened with great attention, and replied 
in the customary style of Indian welcome. He then desired 
the party to await his return, and, springing into his canoe, 
darted across the river. In a little while he returned, bringing 
a most welcome supply of tobacco, and a small stock of pro • 
visions for the road, declaring his intention of accompanying 
the party. Having no horse, he mounted behind one of the 
men, observing that he should procure a steed for himself on 
the following day. 

They all now jogged on, very sociably and cheerily together. 
Not many miles beyond, they met others of the tribe, among 
whom was one whom Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
had known during their residence among the Upper Nez 
Perces, and who welcomed them with open arms. In this 
neighborhood was the home of their guide, who took leave of 
them with a profusion of good wishes for their safety and hap- 
piness. That night they put up in the hut of a Nez Perce, 
where they were visited by several warriors from the other 
side of the river, friends of the old chief and his cousin, who 
came to have a talk and a smoke with the white men. The 
heart of the good old chief was overflowing with good-will at 
thus being surrounded by his new and old friends, and he 
talked with more spirit and vivacity than ever. The evening 
passed away in perfect harmony and good-humor, and it was 
not until a late hour that the visitors took their leave and re- 
crossed the river. 

After this constant picture of worth and virtue on the part 
of the Nez Perce tribe, we grieve to have to record a circum- 
stance calculated to throw a temporary shade upon the name. 
In the course of the social and harmonious evening just men- 



208 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



tioned, one of the captain’s men, who happened to he some- 
thing of a virtuoso in his way, and fond of collecting curiosi- 
ties, produced a small skin, a great rarity in the eyes of men 
conversant in peltries. It attracted much attention among the 
visitors from beyond the river, who passed it from one to the 
other, examined it with looks of hvely admiration, and pro- 
nounced it a great medicine. 

In the morning, when the captain and his party were about 
to set off, the precious skin was missing. Search was made 
for it in the hut, but it was nowhere to be found ; and it was 
strongly suspected that it had been purloined by some of the 
connoisseurs from the other side of the river. 

The old chief and his cousin were indignant at the supposed 
delinquency of their friends across the water, and called out 
for them to come over and answer for their shameful conduct. 
The others answered to the call with all the promptitude of 
perfect innocence, and spurned at the idea of their being capa- 
ble of such outrage upon any of the Big-hearted nation. All 
were at a loss on whom to fix the crime of abstracting the in- ' 
valuable skin, when by chance the eyes of the worthies from ; 
beyond the water fell upon an unhappy cur, belonging to the i 
owner of the hut. He was a gaUows-looking dog, but not more 
so than most Indian dogs who, take them in the mass, are little ^ 
better than a generation of vipers. Re that as it may, he was , 
instantly accused of having devoured the skin in question. A 
dog accused is generally a dog condemned; and a dog con- 
demned is generally a dog executed. So was it in the present 
instance. The unfortunate cur was arraigned; his thievish ! 
looks substantiated his guilt, and he was condemned by hiu i 
judges from across the river to be hanged. In vain the In- 
dians of the hut, with whom he was a great favorite, interceded ' 
in his behalf. In vain Captain Bonneville and his comrades 
petitioned that his life might be spared. His judges were inex- 
orable. He was doubly guilty ; first, in having robbed their 
good friends, the Big Hearts of the East; secondly, in having 
brought a doubt on the lx)nor of the Nez Perce tribe. He was, 
accordingly, swung aloft, and pelted with stones to make 
his death more certain. The sentence of the judges being 
thoroughly executed, a post mortem examination of the body 
of the dog was held to establish his delinquency beyond all 
doubt, and to leave the Nez Perces without a shadow of suspi- 
cion. Great interest, of course, was manifested by all present, 
during this operation. The body of the dog was opened, the 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 209 



intestines rigorously scrutinized, but, to the horror of all con- 
cerned, not a particle of the skin was to be found — the dog had 
been unjustly executed. 

A great clamor now ensued, but the most clamorous was the 
party from across the river, whose jealousy of their good name 
now prompted them to the most vociferous vindications of 
their innocence. It was with the utmost difficulty that the 
captain and his comrades could calm their lively sensibilities, 
by accounting for the disappearance of the skin in a dozen 
different ways, until all idea of its having been stolen was 
entirely out of the question. 

The meeting now broke up. The warriors returned across 
the river, the captain and his comrades proceeded on their, 
journey; but the spirits of the communicative old chief, Yo- 
mus-ro-y-e-cut, were for a time completely dampened, and he 
evinced great mortification at what had just occurred. He 
rode on in silence, except. that now and then he would give 
way to a burst of indignation, and exclaim, with a shake of the 
head and a toss of the hand toward the opposite shore — ‘‘bad 
men, very bad men across the river;” to each of which brief 
exclamations, his worthy cousin, Hay-she-in-cow-cow, would 
respond by a deep guttural sound of acquiescence, equivalent 
to an amen. 

After some time the countenance of the old chief again 
cleared up, and he fell into repeated conferences, in an under- 
tone, with his cousin, which ended in the departure of the lat- 
ter, who, applying the lash to his horse, dashed forward and 
was soon out of sight. In fact, they were drawing near to the 
village of another chief, likewise distinguished by an appella- 
tion- of some longitude, 0-push-y-e-cut, but commonly known 
as the great chief. The cousin had been sent ahead to give 
notice of their approach ; a herald appeared as before, bearing 
a powder-horn, to enable them to respond to the intended sa- 
lute. A scene ensued, on their approach to the village, similar 
to that which had occurred at the village of the little chief. 
The whole population appeared in the field, drawn up in lines, 
arrayed with the customary regard to rank and dignity. Then 
came on the firing of salutes, and the shaking of hands, in 
which last ceremonial every individual, man, woman, and 
child, participated ; for the Indians have an idea that it is as 
indispensable an overture of friendship among the whites as 
smoking of the pipe is among the red men. The travellers 
were next ushered to the bamquet, where all the choicest vi- 



210 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



ands that the village could furnish, were served up in rich pro- 
fusion. They were afterward entertained by feats of agility 
and horse-races ; indeed their visit to the village seemed the 
signal for complete festivity. In the meantime, a skin lodge 
had been spread for their accommodation, their horses and 
baggage v/ere taken care of, and wood and water supplied in 
abundance. At night, therefore, they retired to their quar- 
ters, to enjoy, as they supposed, the repose of which they 
*:tood in need. No such thing, however, was in store for them. 

A. crowd of visitors awaited their appearance, all eager for a 
r^moke and a talk. The pipe was immediately lighted, and 
constantly replenished and kept alive until the night was far 
advanced. As usual, the utmost eagerness was evinced by the 
guests to learn everything within the scope of their compre- . 
hension respecting the Americans, for whom they professed 
the most fraternal regard. The captain, in his replies, made 
use of familiar illustrations calculated to strike their minds, ' 
and impress them with such an idea of the might of his nation ; 
as would induce them to treat with kindness and respect all 
stragglers that might fall in their path. To their inquiries as j 
to the numbers of the people of the United States, he assured 
them that they were as countless as the blades of grass in the ^ 
prairies, and that, great as Snake Eiver was, if they were all ' 
encamped upon its banks they would drink it dry in a single 
day. To these and similar statistics they listened with pro- 
found attention and apparently implicit belief. It was, indeed, 
a striking scene: the captain, with his hunter’s dress and bald 
head in the midst, holding forth, and his wild auditors seated 
around like so many statues, the fire lighting up their painted 
faces and muscular figures, all fixed and motionless, excepting 
when the pipe was passed, a question propounded, or a start- 
ling fact in statistics received with a movement of surprise and 
a half-suppressed ejaculation of wonder and delight. 

The fame of the captain as a healer of diseases had accom- 
panied him to this village, and the great chief 0-push-y-e-cut 
now entreated him to exert his skill on his daughter, who had 
been for three days racked with pains, for which the Pierced- 
nose doctoi^s could devise no alleviation. The captain found 
her extended on a pallet of mats in excraciating pain. Her 
father manifested the strongest paternal affection for her, and 
assured the captain that if he would but cure her, he would 
place the Americans near his heart. The worthy captain 
i^eeded no such inducejnent. His kind heart was already 



ADVENTURES OF € APT AIN BONNEVILLE. 211 



touched by the sufferings of the poor girl, and his sympathies 
quickened by her appearance ; for she was but about sixteen 
years of age, and uncommonly beautiful in form and feature. 
The only difficulty with the captain was that he knew nothing 
of her malady, and that his medical science was of a most hap- 
hazard kind. After considering and cogitating for some time, 
as a man is apt to do when in a maze of vague ideas, he made 
a desperate dash at a remedy. By his directions the girl was 
placed in a sort of rude vapor bath, much used by the Nez 
Perces, where she was kept until near fainting. He then gave 
her a dose of gunpowder dissolved in cold water, and ordered 
her to be wrapped in buffalo robes and put to sleep under a 
load of furs and blankets. The remedy succeeded; the next 
morning she was free from pain, though extremely languid; 
whereupon the captain prescribed for her a bowl of colt’s head 
broth, and that she should be kept for a time on simple diet. 

The great chief was unbounded in his expressions of grati- 
tude for the recovery of his daughter. He would fain have 
detained the captain a long time as his guest, but the time for 
departure had arrived. When the captain’s horse was brought 
for him to mount, the chief declared that the steed was not 
worthy of him, and sent for one of his best horses, which he 
presented in its stead ; declaring that it made his heart glad to 
see his friend so well mounted. He then appointed a young 
Nez Perce to accompany his guest to the next village, and “to 
carry his talk” concerning them ; and the two parties separated 
with mutual expressions of kindness and feelings of good-will. 

The vapor bath of which we have made mention is in fre- 
quent use among the Nez Perce tribe, chiefly for cleanliness. 
Their sweating-houses, as they call them, are small and close 
lodges, and the vapor is produced by water poured slowly upon 
red-hot stones. 

On passing the limits of 0-push-y-e-cut’s domains, the travel- 
lers left the elevated table-lands, and all the wild and romantic 
scenery which has just been described. They now traversed a 
gently undulating country, of such fertility that it excited the 
rapturous admiration of two of the captain’s followers, a Ken- 
tuckian and a native of Ohio. They declared that it surpassed 
any land that they had ever seen, and often exclaimed what a 
delight it would be just to run a plough through such a rich 
and teeming soil, and see it open its bountiful promise before 
the share. 

Another halt and sojourn of a night was made at the village 



212 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



of a chief named He-mim-el-pilp, where similar ceremonies 
were observed and hospitality experienced as^t the preced- 
ing villages. They now pursued a west-southwest course 
through a beautiful and fertile region, better wooded than most 
of the tracts through which they had passed. In their pro- 
gress, they met with several bands of Nez Perces, by whom 
they were invariably treated with the utmost kindness. With- 
in seven days after leaving the domain of He-mim-el-pilp, they 
struck the Columbia River at Fort Wallah- Wallah, where they 
arrived on the 4th of March, 1834. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FORT WALLAH-WALLAH — ITS COMMANDER — INDIANS IN ITS 
NEIGHBORHOOD — EXERTIONS OF MR. DAMBRUNE FOR THEIR 
IMPROVEMENT — RELIGION — CODE OF LAWS — RANG.E OF THE 
LOWER NEZ PERCES— CAMASH, AND OTHER ROOTS — NEZ PERCE 
HORSES— PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE— REFUSAL OF SUP- 
PLIES— DEPARTURE — A LAGGARD AND GLUTTON. 

Fort Wallah- Wall ah is a trading-post of the Hudson’s 
Bay Company, situated just above the mouth of the river of 
the same name, and on the left bank of the Columbia. It is 
built of drift-wood, and calculated merely for defence against 
any attack of the natives. At the time of Captain Bonneville’s 
arrival, the whole garrison mustered but six or eight men: 
and the post was under the superintendence of Mr. Pambrune, 
an agent of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 

The great post and fort of the company, forming the em- 
porium of its trade on the Pacific, is Fort Vancouver; situated 
on the right bank of the Columbia, about sixty miles from the 
sea, and just above the mouth of the Wallamut. To this point 
the company removed its establishment from Astoria, in 1821, 
after its coahtion with the Northwest Company. 

Captain Bonneville and his comrades experienced a polite 
reception from Mr. Pambrune, the superintendent: for, how- 
ever hostile the membeis of the British Company may be to 
the enterprises of American traders, they have always mani- 
fested great courtesy and hospitality to the traders themselves. 
Fort Wallah- Wallah is surrounded by the tribe of the same 



ADVENTUUES OP CAPTAhy BONNEVILLE. 213 



name, as well as by the Skynses and the Nez Perces ; who 
bring to it the furs and peltries collected in their hunting ex- 
peditions. The Wallah- Wallahs are a degenerate, wornout 
tribe. The Nez Perces are the most numerous and tractable 
of the three tribes just mentioned. Mr. Pambrune informed 
Captain Bonneville that he had been at some pains to intro- 
duce the Christian rehgion, in the Poman Catholic form, 
among them, where it had evidently taken root ; but had be- 
come altered and modified to suit their peculiar habits of 
thought and motives of action ; retaining, however, the princi- 
pal points of faith and its entire precepts of morality. The 
same gentleman had given them a code of laws, to which they 
conformed with scrupulous fidelity. Polygamy, which once 
prevailed among them to a great extent, was now rarely in- 
dulged. All the crimes denounced by the Christian faith met 
with severe punishment among them. Even theft, so venial a 
crime among the Indians, had recently been punished with 
hanging, by sentence of a chjpf. 

There certainly appears to be a peculiar susceptibility of 
moral and religious improvement among this tribe, and they 
would seem to be one of the very, very few that have bene- 
fited in morals and manners by an intercourse with white 
men. The parties which visited them about twenty years 
previously, in the expedition fitted out by Mr. Astor, com- 
plained of their selfishness, their extortion, and their thievish 
propensities. The very reverse of those qualities prevailed 
among them during the prolonged sojourns of Captain Bonne- 
ville. 

The Lower Nez Perces range upon the Way-lee -way, Im- 
mahah, Yenghies, and other of the streams west of the moun- 
tains. They hunt the beaver, elk, deer, white bear, and 
mountain sheep. Beside the flesh of these animals, they use a 
number of roots for food ; some of which would be well worth 
transplanting and cultivating in the Atlantic States. Among 
these is the camash, a sweet root, about the form and size of 
an onion, and said to be really delicious. The cowish, also, or 
biscuit root, about the size of a walnut, which they reduce to a 
very palatable flour; together with the jackap aisish, quako, 
and others ; which they cook by steaming them in the ground. 
In August and September, these Indians keep along the rivers, 
where they catch and dry great quantities of salmon ; which, 
while they last, are their principal food. In the winter they 
congregate in villages formed of comfortable huts, or lodges, 



214 ADVENTURES OP CAPTAIN BONNE VII. LE. 



covered with mats. They are generally clad in deer skins, or 
woollens, and extremely well armed. Above all, they are 
celebrated for owning great numbers of horses; which they 
mark, and then sulfer to range in droves in their most fertile 
plains. These horses are principally of the pony breed ; but 
remarkably stout and long-winded. They are brought in great 
numbers to the establishments of the Hudson’s Bay Company, 
and sold for a mere trifle. 

Such is the account given by Captain Bonneville of the Nez 
Perces; who, if not viewed by him with too partial an eye, are 
certainly among the gentlest and least barbarous people of 
these remote wildernesses. They invariably signified to him 
their earnest wish that an American post might be established 
among them ; and repeatedly declared that they would trade 
with Americans in preference to any other people. 

Captain Bonneville had intended to remain some time in this 
neighborhood, to form an acquaintance with the natives and 
to collect information, and establish connections that might be 
advantageous in the way of trade. The delays, however, < 
which he had experienced on his journey, obliged him to 
shorten his sojourn, and to set off as soon as possible, so as to ! 
reach the rendezvous at the Portneuf at the appointed time. 

He had seen enough to convince him that an American trade 
might be carried on with advantage in this quarter; and he , 
determined soon to return with a stronger party, more com- 
pletely fitted for the purpose. ; 

As he stood in need of some supplies for his journey, he ap- 
plied to purchase them of Mr. Pambrune ; but soon found the \ 
difference between being treated as a guest, or as a rival | 
trader. The worthy superintendent, who had extended to j 
him all the genial rites of hospitality, now suddenly assumed j 
a withered up aspect and demeanor, and observed that, how- | 
ever he might feel disposed to serve him, personally, he felt j 
bound by his duty to the Hudson’s Bay Company to do noth- 
ing which should facilitate or encourage the visits of other 
traders among the Indians in that part of the country. He 
endeavored to dissuade Captain Bonneville from returning 
through the Blue Mountains ; assuring him it would be ex- 
tremely difficult and dangerous, if not impracticable, at this 
season of the year; and advised him to accompany Mr. 
Payette, a leader of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was 
about to depart with a number of men, by a more circuitous, 
but safe route,, to carry supplies to the company’s agent, resi- , 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 215 



dent among the Upper Nez Perces. Captain Bonneville, how- 
ever^ piqued at his having refused to furnish him with suj)- 
plies, and doubting the sincerity of his advice, determined to 
return by the more direct route through the mountains; 
though varying his course, in some respects, from that by 
which he had come, in consequence of information gathered 
among the neighboring Indians. 

Accordingly, on the 6th of March he and his three com- 
panions, accompanied by their Nez Perce guides, set out on 
their return. In the early part of their course, they touched 
again at several of the Nez Perce villages, where they had ex- 
perienced such kind treatment on their way down. They were 
always welcomed with cordiality ; and everything was done to 
cheer them on their journey. 

On leaving the Way -lee- way village, they were joined by a 
Nez Perce, whose society was welcomed on account of the 
general gratitude and good-will they felt for his tribe. He 
soon proved a heavy clog upon the little party, being doltish 
and taciturn, lazy in the extreme, and a huge feeder. His 
only proof of intellect was in shrewdly avoiding all labor, and 
availing himself of the toil of others. When on the march, he 
always lagged behind the rest, leaving to them the task of 
breaking a way through all difficulties and impediments, and 
leisurely and lazily jogging along the track, which they had 
beaten through the snow. At the evening encampment, when 
others were busy gathering fuel, providing for the horses, and 
cooking the evening repast, this worthy Sancho of the wilder- 
ness would take his seat quietly and cosily by the fire, puffing 
away at his pipe, and eyeing in silence, but with wistful inten- 
sity of gaze, the savory morsels roasting for supper. 

When meal-time arrived, however, then came his season of 
activity. He no longer hung back, and waited for others to 
take the lead, but distinguished himself by a brilliancy of on- 
set and a sustained vigor and duration of attack that com- 
pletely shamed the efforts of his competitors— albeit, experi- 
enced trenchermen of no mean prowess. Never had they 
witnessed such power of mastication and such marvellous 
capacity of stomach as in this native and uncultivated gas- 
tronome. Having, by repeated and prolonged assaults, at 
length completely gorged himself, he would wrap himself up, 
and lie with the torpor of an anaconda, slowly digesting his 
way on to the next repast. 

The gormandizing powers of this worthy were, at first, mat- 



216 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



ters of surprise and merriment to the travellers ; but they soon 
became too serious for a joke, threatening devastation to the 
fleshpots; and he was regarded askance, at his meals, as a 
regular kill-crop, destined to waste the substance of the party. 
Nothing but a sense ‘of the obligations they were under to his 
nation induced them to bear with such a guest ; but he pro- 
ceeded, speedily, to relieve them from the weight of these 
obligations, by eating a receipt in full. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE UNINVITED GUEST— FREE AND EASY MANNERS— SALUTARY 
JOKES— A PRODIGAL SON— EXIT OP THE GLUTTON— A SUDDEN 
CHANGE IN FORTUNE— DANGER OF A VISIT TO POOR RELATIONS 
—PLUCKING OF A PROSPEROUS MAN — A VAGABOND TOILET— 

A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE VERY FINE HORSE— HARD TRAVELLING 
—THE UNINVITED GUEST AND THE PATRIARCHAL COLT— A 
BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK— A CATASTROPHE— EXIT OP THE MERRY ' 

VAGABOND. ^ 

i 

As Captain Bonneville and his men were encamped one ? 
evening among the hills near Snake River, seated before their 
fire, enjoying a hearty supper, they were suddenly surprised ’ 
by the visit of an uninvited guest. He was a ragged, half- 
naked Indian hunter, armed with bow and arrows, and had I 
the carcass of a fine buck thrown across his shoulder. Ad- | 
vancing with an alert step, and free and easy air, he threw the | 
buck on the ground, and, without waiting for an invitation, ) 
seated himself at their mess, helped himself without ceremony, ^ 
and chatted to the right and left in the liveliest and most un- \ 
embarrassed manner. No adroit and veteran dinner hunter of 
a metropolis could have acquitted himself more knowingly. 

The travellers were at first completely taken by surprise, and 
could not but admire the facility with which this ragged cosmop- 
olite made himself at home among them. While they stared 
he went on, making the most of the good cheer upon which he 
had so fortunately alighted ; and was soon elbow deep in ‘ ‘ pot 
luck” and greased from the tip of his nose to the back of his 
ears. 

As the company recovered from their surprise, they began 



ADVENTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 217 



to feel annoyed at this intrusion. Their uninvited guest, un- 
like the generality of his tribe, was somewhat dirty as well as 
ragged and they had no relish for such a messmate. Heaping 
up, therefore, an abundant portion of the “ provant” upon a 
piece of bark which served for a dish, they invited him to com 
fine himself thereto, instead of foraging in the general mess. 

He complied with the most accommodating spirit imagb 
nable ; and went on eating and chatting, and laughing and 
smearing himself, until his whole countenance shone with 
grease and good-humor. In the course of his repast, his at- 
tention was caught by the figure of the gastronome, who, as 
usual, was gorging himself in dogged silence. A droll cut ot 
the eye showed either that he knew him of old, or perceived at 
once his characteristics. He immediately made him the butt 
of his pleasantries ; and cracked off two or three good hits, 
that caused the sluggish dolt to prick up his ears, and delighted 
all the company. From this time, the uninvited guest was 
taken into favor; his jokes began to be relished ; his careless, 
free and easy air, to be considered singularly amusing ; and in 
the end, he was pronounced by the travellers one of the mer- 
riest companions and most entertaining vagabonds they had 
met with in the wilderness. 

Supper being over, the redoubtable Shee-wee-she-ouaiter, for 
such was the simple name by which he announced himself, de- 
clared his intention of keeping company with the party for a 
day or two, if they had no objection ; and by way of backing 
his self-invitation, presented the carcass of the buck as an 
earnest of his hunting abihties. By this time he had so com- 
pletely effaced the unfavorable impression made by his first 
appearance, that he was made welcome to the camp, and the 
Nez Perc6 guide undertook to give him lodging for the night. 
The next morning, at break of day he borrowed a gun, and 
was off among the hills, nor was anything more seen of him 
until a few minutes after the party had encamped for the 
evening, when he again made his appearance, in his usual 
frank, careless manner, and threw down the carcass of another 
noble deer, which he had borne on his back for a considerable 
distance. 

This evening he was the life of the party, and his open com- 
municative disposition, free from all disguise, soon put them 
in possession of his histor}^ He had been a kind of prodigal 
son in his native village ; living a loose, heedless life, and dis- 
regarding the precepts and imperative commands of the clii(!is= 



218 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



He had, in consequence, been expelled from the village, but, in 
nowise disheartened at this banishment had betaken himself 
to the society of the border Indians, and had led a careless, 
haphazard, vagaI)ond life, perfectly consonant to his humors; 
heedless of the future, so long as he had wherewithal for the 
present; and fearing no lack of food, so long as he had the im- 
plements of the chase, and a fair hunting ground. 

Finding him very expert as a hunter, and being pleased with 
his eccentricities and his strange and merry humor. Captain 
Bonneville fitted him out handsomely as the Nimrod of the 
party, who all soon became quite attached to him. One of the 
earliest and most signal services he performed, was to exorcise 
the insatiate kill-crop that hitherto oppressed the party. In 
fact, the doltish Nez Perce, who had seemed so perfectly insen- 
sible to rough treatment of every kind, by which the travellers 
had endeavored to elbow him out of their society, could not 
withstand the good-humored bantering, and occasionally sharp 
wit of She-wee-she. He evidently quailed under his jokes, and 
sat bhnking like an owl in daylight, when pestered by the 
fiouts and peckings of mischievous birds. At length his place 
was found vacant at meal-time ; no one knew when he went 
off, or whither he had gone, but he was seen no more, and the 
vast surplus that remained when the repast was over, showed 
what a mighty gormandizer had departed. 

Relieved from this incubus, the little party now went on 
cheerily. She-wee-she kept them in fun as well as food. His 
hunting was always successful ; he was ever ready to render 
any assistance in the camp or on the march ; while his jokes, 
his antics, and the very cut of his coimtenance, so full of 
whim and comicality, kept every one in good-humor. 

In this way they journeyed on until they arrived on the 
banks of the Immahah, and encamped near to the Nez Perce 
lodges. Here She-wee-she took a sudden notion to visit his 
people, and show off the state of worldly prosperity to which 
he had so suddenly attained. He accordingly departed in the^ 
morning, arrayed in hunter’s style, and well appointed with 
everything befitting his vocation. The buoyancy of his gait, 
the elasticity of his step, and the hilarity of his countenance, 
showed that he anticipated, with chuckling satisfaction, the 
surprise he was about to give those who had ejected him from 
their society in rags. But what a change was there in his 
whole appearance when he rejoined the party in the evening! 
He came skulking into camp like a beaten cur, with his tail 



ADVENTURES OF CART AIN BONNEVILLE, 219 



between his legs. All his finery was gone ; he was naked as 
when he was born, with the exception of a scanty fiap that 
answered the purpose of a fig leaf. His fellow-travellers at 
first did not know him, but supposed it to be some vagrant 
Root Digger sneaking into the camp ; but when they recognized 
in this forlorn object their prime wag, She-wee-she, whom they 
had seen depart in the morning in such high glee and high 
feather, they could not contain their merriment, but hailed him 
with loud and repeated peals of laughter. 

She-wee-she was not of a spirit to be easily cast down ; he 
soon joined in the merriment as heartily as any one, and 
seemed to consider his reverse of fortune an excellent joke. 
Captain Bonneville, however, thought proper to check his 
good-humor, and demanded, with some degree of sternness, 
the cause of his altered condition. He replied in the most 
natural and self-complacent style imaginable, ' ‘ that he had 
been among his cousins, who were very poor ; they had been 
delighted to see him ; still more delighted with his good for- 
tune ; they had taken him to their arms ; admired his equip- 
ments; one had begged for this; another for that” — in fine, 
what with the poor devil’s inherent heedlessness and the real 
generosity of his disposition, his needy cousins had succeeded 
in stripping him of all his clothes and accoutrements, except- 
ing the fig leaf with which he had returned to camp. 

Seeing his total want of care and forethought. Captain Bonne- 
ville determined to let him suffer a little, in hopes it might 
prove a salutary lesson ; and, at any rate, to make him no more 
presents while in the neighborhood of his needy cousins. He 
was left, therefore, to shift f gr himself in his naked condition ; 
which, however, did not seem to give him any concern, or to 
abate one jot of his good-humor. In the course of his loung- 
ing about the camp, however, he got possession of a deer-skin; 
whereupon, cutting a slit in the middle, he thrust his head 
through it, so that the two ends hung down before and 
behind, something like a South American poncho, or the 
tabardof a herald. These ends he tied together, under the 
armpits ; and thus arrayed presented himself once more before 
the captain, with an air of perfect self-satisfaction, as though 
he thought it impossible for any fault to be found with his 
toilet. 

A little further journeying brought the travellers to the petty 
village of Nez Perces, governed by the worthy and affectionate 
old patriarch who had made Captaiu Bonneville the costly 



220 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



present of a very fine horse. The old man welcomed them 
once more to his village with his usual cordialty, and his re- 
spectable squaw and hopeful son, cherishing grateful recollec- 
tions of the hatchet and ear-bobs, joined in a chorus of friendly 
gratulation. 

As the much- vaunted steed, once the joy and pride of this 
interesting family, was now nearly knocked up by travelling, 
and totally inadequate to the mountain scramble that lay ahead, 
Captain Bonneville restored him to the venerable patriarch, 
with renewed acknowledgments for the invaluable gift. Some- 
what to his surprise, he was immediately supplied with a fine 
two years’ old colt in his stead, a substitution which, he after- 
ward learned, according to Indian custom in such cases, he 
might have claimed as a matter of right. We do not find that 
any after claims were made on account of this colt. This dona- 
tion may be regarded, therefore, as a signal punctilio of Indian 
honor ; but it will be found that the animal soon proved an un- 
lucky acquisition to the party. 

While at this village, the Nez Perce guide had held consulta- 
tions with some of the inhabitants as to the mountain tract the 
party were about to traverse. He now began to wear an anx- 
ious aspect, and to indulge in gloomy forebodings. The snow, 
he had been told, lay to a great depth in the passes of the 
mountains, and difiiculties would increase as he proceeded. 
He begged Captain Bonneville, therefore, to travel very slowly, 
so as to keep the horses in strength and spirit for the hard 
times they would have to encounter. The captain surrendered 
the regulation of the march entirely to his discretion, and 
pushed on in the advance, amusing himself with hunting, so as 
generally to kill a deer or two in the course of the day, and 
arriving, before the rest of the party, at the spot designated 
by the guide for the evening’s encampment. 

In the meantime, the others plodded on at the heels of the 
guide, accompanied by that merry vagabond, She-wee-she. 
The primitive garb worn by this droll left all his nether man 
exposed to the biting blasts of the mountains. Still his wit 
was never frozen, nor his sunshiny temper beclouded ; and his 
innumerable antics and practical jokes, while they quickened 
the circulation of his own blood, kept his companions in high 
good-humor. 

So passed the first day after the departure from the patri- 
arch’s. The second day commenced in the same manner; the 
captain in the advance, the rest of the party following on 



ADViiJJSTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 22V 



slowly. She-wee-she, for the greater part of the time, trudged 
on foot over the snow, keeping himself warm by hard exercise, 
and all kinds of crazy capers. In the height of his foolery, 
the patriarchal colt, which, unbroken to the saddle, was suf- 
fered to follow on at large, happened to come within his reach. 
In a moment he was on his back, snapping his fingers, and 
yelping with delight. The colt, unused to such a burden, and 
half wild by nature, fell to prancing and rearing, and snort- 
ing, and plunging, and kicking; and, at length, set off full 
speed over the most dangerous ground. As the route led gen- 
erally along the steep and craggy sides on the hills, both horse 
and horseman were constantly in danger, and more than once 
had a hairbreadth escape from deadly peril. Nothing, how- 
ever, could daunt this madcap savage. He stuck to the colt 
like a plaster, up ridges, down gullies ; whooping and yelling 
with the wildest glee. Never did beggar on horseback display 
more headlong horsemanship. His companions followed him 
with their eyes, sometimes laughing, sometimes holding in 
xheir breath at his vagaries, until they saw the colt make a 
sudden plunge or start, and pitch his unlucky rider headlong 
over a precipice. There was a general cry of horror, and all 
hastened to the spot. They found the poor fellow lying among 
the rocks below, sadly bruised and mangled. It was almost a 
miracle that he had escaped with life. Even in this condition 
his merry spirit was not entirely quelled, and he summoned 
up a feeble laugh at the alarm and anxiety of those who came 
to his relief. He was extricated from his rocky bed, and a 
messtoger dispatched to inform Captain Bonneville of the 
accident. The latter returned with all speed, and encamped 
the party at the first convenient spot. Here the wounded man 
was stretched upon buffalo skins, and the captain, who offi- 
ciated on all occasions as doctor and surgeon to the party, pro- 
ceeded to examine his wounds. The principal one was a long 
and deep gash in the thigh, which reached to the bone. Call- 
ing for a needle and thread, the capxain now prepared to sew 
up the wound, admonishing the patient to submit to the oper- 
ation with becoming fortitude. His gayety was at an end; he 
could no longer summon up even a forced smile ; and, at the 
first puncture of the needle flinched so piteously that the cap- 
tain was obliged to pause, and to order him a powerful dose of 
alcohol. This somewhat rallied up his spirit and warmed his 
heart ; all the time of the operation, however, he kept his eyes 
riveted on the wound, with his teeth set, and a whimsical 



^22 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



wincing ot the countenance that occasionally gave his nose 
something of its usual comic curl. 

When the wound was fairly closed, the captain washed it 
with rum, and administered a second dose of the same to the 
patient, who was tucked in for the night, and advised to com- 
pose himself to sleep. He was restless and uneasy, however; 
repeatedly expressing his fears that his leg would be so much 
swollen the next day as to prevent his proceeding with the 
party; nor could he be quieted until the captain gave a de 
cided opinion favorable to his wishes. 

Early the next morning, a gleam of his merry humor re*^ 
turned, on finding that his wounded limb retained its natural 
proportions. On attempting to use it, however, he found him- 
self unable to stand. He made several efforts to coax himself 
into a belief that he might still continue forward; but at 
length shook his head despondingly, and said that ‘‘ as he had 
but one leg,” it was all in vain to attempt a passage of the 
mountain. 

Every one grieved to part with so boon a companion, and 
under such disastrous circumstances. He was once more 
clothed and equipped, each one making him some parting pres- 
ent. He was then helped on a horse, which Captain Bonne- 
ville presented to him; and after many parting expressions 
of good-will on both sides, set off on his return to his old 
haunts ; doubtless to be once more plucked by his affectionate 
but needy cousins. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE DIFFICULT MOUNTAIN — A SMOKE AND CONSULTATION — THE 
captain’s speech — AN ICY TURNPIKE— DANGER OF A FALSE 
STEP — ARRIVAL ON SNAKE RIVER — RETURN TO PORTNEUF— 
MEETING OF COMRADES. 

Continuing their journey up the course of the Immahah, 
the travellers found, as they approached the head-waters, the 
snow increased in quantity, so as to lie two feet deep. They 
were again obliged, therefore, to beat down a path for their 
horses, sometimes travelling on the icy surface of the stream. 
At length they reached the place where they intended to scale 
the mountains; and, having broken a pathway to the foot, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 223 



were agreeably surprised to find that the wind had drifted the 
snow from off the side, so that they attained the summit with 
but httle difiicultyo Here they encamped, with the intention 
of beating a track through the mountains. A short experi- 
ment, however, obliged them to give up the attempt, the snow 
lying in vast drifts, often higher than the horses’ heads. 

Captain Bonneville now took the two Indian guides, and set 
out to reconnoitre the neighborhood. Observing a high peak 
which overtopped the rest, he climbed it, and discovered from 
the summit a pass about nine miles long, but so heavily piled 
with snow that it seemed impracticable. He now lit a pipe, 
and, sitting down with the two guides, proceeded to hold a 
consultation after the Indian mode. For a long while they all 
smoked vigorously and in silence, pondering over the subject 
matter before them. At length a discussion commenced, and 
the opinion in which the two guides concurred was, that the 
horses could not possibly cross the snows. They advised, 
therefore, that the party should proceed on foot, and they 
should take the horses back to the village, where they would 
be well taken care of until Captain Bonneville should send for 
them. They urged this advice with great earnestness ; declar- 
ing that their chief would be extremely angry, and treat them 
severely should any of the horses of his good friends, the 
white men, be lost in crossing under their guidance ; and that, 
therefore, it was good they should not attempt it. 

Captain BonneviUe sat smoking his pipe, and listening to 
them with Indian silence and gravity. When they had fin- 
ished, he replied to them in their own style of language. 

‘‘ My friends,” said he, “I have seen the pass, and have hst- 
ened to your words ; you have httle hearts. When troubles 
and dangers lie in your way, you turn your backs. That is 
not the way with my nation. When great obstacles present, 
and threaten to keep them back, their hearts swell, and they 
push forward. They love to conquer difficulties. But enough 
for the present. Night is coming on; let us return to our 
camp.” 

He moved on, and they followed in silence. On reaching the 
camp, he found the men extremely discouraged. One of their 
number had been surveying the neighborhood, and seriously 
assured them that the snow was at least a hundred feet deep. 
The captain cheered them up, and diflhised fresh spirit in them 
by his example. Still he was much perplexed how to proceed. 
About dark there was a slight drizzling rain. An expedient 



224 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



now suggested itself. This was to make two light sleds, place 
the packs on them, and drag them to the other side of the 
mountain, thus forming a road in the wet snow, which, should 
it afterward freeze, would be sufficiently hard to bear the 
horses. This plan was promptly put into execution ; the sleds 
were constructed, the heavy baggage was drawn backward 
and forward until the road was beaten, when they desisted 
from their fatiguing labor. The night turned out clear and 
cold, and by morning their road was incrusted with ice suffi- 
ciently strong for their purpose. They now set out on their 
icy turnpike, and got on well enough, excepting that now and 
then a horse would shde out of the track, and immediately 
sink up to the neck. Then came on toil and difficulty, and 
they would be obliged to haul up the floundering animal with 
ropes. One, more unlucky than the rest, after repeated falls, 
had to be abandoned in the snow. Notwithstanding these re- 
peated delays, they succeeded, before the sun had acquired 
sufficient power to thaw the snow, in getting all the rest of 
their horses safely to the other side of the mountain. 

Their difficulties and dangers, however, were not yet at an 
end. They had now to descend, and the whole surface of the 
snow was glazed with ice. It was necessary, therefore, to 
wait until the warmth of the sun should melt the glassy crust 
of sleet, and give them a foothold to the yielding snow. They 
had a frightful warning of the danger of any movement while 
the sleet remained. A wild young mare, in her restlessness, 
strayed to the edge of a declivity. One slip was fatal to her ; 
she lost her balance, careered with headlong velocity down 
the slippery side of the mountain for more than two thousand 
feet, and was dashed to pieces at the bottom. When the trav- 
ellers afterward sought the carcass to cut it up for food, they 
found it torn and mangled in the most horrible manner. 

It was quite late in the evening before the party descended 
to the ultimate skirts of the snow. Here they planted largt 
logs below them to prevent their sliding down, and encampe(\ 
for the night. The next day they succeeded in bringing dowi\ 
their baggage to the encampment ; then packing all up regu> 
larly and loading their horses, they once more set out briskly 
and cheerfully, and in the course of the following day suc' 
ceeded in getting to a grassy region. 

Here their Nez Perce guides declared that all the difficulties 
of the mountains were at an end, and their course was plain 
and simple, and needed no further guidance; they asked leave. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 225 



therefore, to return home. This was readily granted, A\rith 
many thanks and presents for their faithful services. They 
took a long farewell smoke with their white friends, after 
which they mounted their horses and set off, exchanging 
many farewells and kind wishes. 

On the following day, Captain Bonneville completed his 
journey down the mountain, and encamped on the borders 
of Snake Eiver, where he found the grass in great abundance 
and eight inches in height. In this neighborhood he saw on 
the rocky banks of the river several prismoids of basaltes, ris- 
ing to the height of fifty or sixty feet. 

Nothing particularly worthy of note occurred during several 
days as the party proceeded up along Snake Eiver and across 
its tributary streams. After crossing Gun Greek, they met 
with various signs that white people were in the neighbor- 
hood, and Captain Bonneville made earnest exertions to dis- 
cover whether they were any of bis own people, that he might 
join them. He soon ascertained that they had been starved 
out of this tract of country, and had betaken themselves to the 
buffalo region, whither he now shaped his course. In proceed- 
ing along Snake Eiver, he found small hordes of Shoshonies 
lingering upon the minor streams, and living upon trout and 
other fish, which they catch in great numbers at this season in 
fish-traps. The greater part of the tribe, however, had pene- 
trated the mountains to hunt the elk, deer, and ahsahta or 
bighorn. 

On the 12th of May Captain Bonneville reached the Portneuf 
Eiver, in the vicinity of which he had left the winter encamp- 
ment of his company on the preceding Christmas day. He 
had then expected to be back by the beginning of March, but 
circumstances had detained him upward of two months be- 
yond the time, and the winter encampment must long ere this 
have been broken up. Halting on the banks of the Portneuf, 
he dispatched scouts a few miles above, to visit the old camp- 
ing ground and search for signals of the party, or of their 
whereabouts, should they actually have abandoned the spot. 
They returned without being able to ascertain anything. 

Being now destitute of provisions, the travellers found it 
necessary to make a short hunting excursion after buffalo. 
They made caches, therefore, in an island in the river, in 
which they deposited all their baggage, and then set out on 
their expedition. They were so fortunate as to kill a couple 
of fine bulls, and cutting i the carcasses, determined to hus' 



226 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



band this stock of provisions with the most miserly care, lest 
they should again be obliged to venture into the open and 
dangerous hunting grounds. Eeturning to their island on the 
18th of May, they found that the wolves had been at the 
caches, scratched up the contents, and scattered them in every 
direction. They now constructed a more secure one, in which 
they deposited their heaviest articles, and then descended 
Snake River again, and encamped just above the American 
Falls. Here they proceeded to fortify themselves, intending 
to remain here, and give their horses an opportunity to recruit 
their strength with good pasturage, until it should be time to 
set out for the annual rendezvous in Bear River valley. 

On the first of June they descried four men on the other side 
of the river, opposite to the camp, and, ha\ung attracted their 
attention by a discharge of rifles, ascertained to their joy that 
they were some of their own people. From these men Captain 
Bonneville learned that the whole party which he had left in 
the preceding month of December were encamped on Blackfoot 
River, a tributary of Snake River, not very far above the Port- 
neuf . Thither he proceeded with all possible dispatch, and in 
a little while had the pleasure of finding himself once more 
surrounded by his people, who greeted his return among them 
in the heartiest manner; for his long-protracted absence had 
convinced them that he and his three companions had been cut 
off by some hostile tribe. 

The party had suffered much during his absence. They had 
been pinched by famine and almost starved, and had been 
forced to repair to the caches at Salmon River. Here they fell 
in with the Blackfeet bands, and considered themselves fortu- 
nate in being able to retreat from the dangerous neighborhood 
without sustaining any loss. 

Being thus reunited, a general treat from Captain Bonneville 
to his men was a matter of course. Two days, therefore, were 
given up to such feasting and merriment as their means and 
situation afforded. What was wanting in good cheer was made 
up in good-will; the free trappers in particular distinguished 
themselves on the occasion, and the saturnalia w^as enjoyed 
with a hearty holiday spirit, that smacked of the game flavor 
of the wilderness. 



AUVEmVllES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 227 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

DEPARTURE FOR THE RENDEZVOUS— A WAR PARTY OF BLACKPEET 
— A MOCK BUSTLE— SHAM FIRES AT NIGHT — WARLIKE PRECAU- 
TIONS— DANGERS OF A NIGHT ATTACK- A PANIC AMONG HORSES 
— CAUTIOUS MARCH— THE BEER SPRINGS— A MOCK CAROUSAL- 
SKIRMISHING WITH BUFFALOES- A BUFFALO BAIT— ARRIVAL AT 
THE RENDEZVOUS— MEETING OF VARIOUS BANDS. 

After the two days of festive indulgence, Captain BonnevQle 
broke up the encampment, and set out with his motley crew of 
hired and free trappers, half-breeds, Indians, and squaws, for 
the main rendezvous in Bear River valley. Directing his 
course up the Elackfoot River, he soon reached the hills among 
which it takes its rise. Here, while on the march, he descried 
from the brow of a hill, a war i3arty of about sixty Blackfeet, 
on the plain immediately below him. His situation was peril- 
ous ; for the greater part of his people were dispersed in various 
directions. Still, to betray hesitation or fear would be to dis- 
cover his actual weakness, and to invite attack. He assumed 
instantly, therefore, a belligerent tone ; ordered the squaws to 
lead the horses to a small grove of ashen trees, and unload and 
tie them ; and caused a great bustle to be made by his scanty 
handful ; the leaders riding hither and thither and vociferating 
with all their might, as if a numerous force were getting under 
way for an attack. 

To keep up the deception as to his force, he ordered, at night, 
a number of extra fires to be made in his camp, and kept up a 
vigilant watch. His men were all directed to keep themselves 
prepared for instant action. In such cases the experienced 
trapper sleeps in his clothes, with his rifie beside him, the shot- 
belt and powder-flask on the stock ; so that, in case of alarm, 
he can lay his hand upon the whole of his equipment at once, 
and start up, completely armed. 

Captain Bonneville was also especially careful to secure the 
horses, and set a vigilant guard upon them; for there lies the 
great object and principal danger of a night attack. The grand 
move of the lurking savage is to cause a panic among the 
horses. In such cases one horse frightens another, until all are 



228 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLIl. 

alarmed, and struggleto break loose. In camps wheie chere 
are great numbers of Indians, with their horses, a night alarm 
of the kind is tremendous. The ruiming of the horses that 
have broken loose; the snorting, stamping, and rearing of 
those which remain fast ; the howling of dogs ; tlie yelling of 
Indians; the scampering of white men, and red men, with 
their guns ; the overturning of lodges and trampling of fires by 
the horses ; the flashes of the fires, lighting up forms of men 
and steeds dashing through the gloom, altogether make up one 
of the wildest scenes of confusion imaginable. 

In this way, sometimes, aU the horses of a camp amounting 
to several hundred will be frightened off in a single night. 

The night passed off without any disturbance ; but there was 
no likelihood that a war party of Blackfeet, once on the track 
of a camp where there was a chance for spoils, would fail to 
hover round it. The captain, therefore, continued to maintain 
the most vigilant precautions; throwing out scouts in the 
advance, and on every rising ground. 

In the course of the day he arrived at the plain of white clay, 
already mentioned, surrounded by the mineral springs, called 
Beer Springs, by the trappers.* Here the men all halted to 
have a regale. In a few moments every spring had its jovial 
knot of hard drinkers, with tin cup in hand, indulging in a 
mock carouse; quaffing, pledging, toasting, bandying jokes, 
singing drinking songs and uttering peals of laughter, until it 
seemed as if their imaginations had given potency to the bev- 
erage, and cheated them into a fit of intoxication. Indeed, in 
the excitement of the moment they were loud and extravagant 
in their commendations of ‘Hhe mountain tap;” elevating it 
above every beverage produced from hops or malt. It was a 
singular and fantastic scene ; suited to a region where every* 
thing is strange and peculiar. These groups of trappers and 
hunters, and Indians, with their wild costumes and wilder 
countenances ; their boisterous gayety and reckless air ; quaff- 



* In a manuscript journal of Mr. Nathaniel G. Wyeth, we find the following men- 
tion of this watering-place: 

“ There is here a soda spring; or, I may say, fifty of them. These springs throw 
out lime, which deposits and forms little hillocks of a yellowish-colored stone. 
There is, also, here, a warm spring, which throws out water, with a jet; which is 
like bilge-water in taste. There are, also, here, peat beds, which sometimes take 
fire, and leave behind a deep, light ashes; in which animals sink deep. ... I as* 
cended a mountain, and from it could see that Bear River took a short turn 
round Sheep Rock. There were, in tne plain, many hundred mounds of yellowish 
stone, with a crater on the top, formed of the deposits of the impregnated water. ” 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 229 



ing and making merry round these sparkling fountains ; while 
beside them lay their weajjons, ready to be snatched up for in- 
stant service. Painters are fond of representing banditti at 
their rude and picturesque carousals; but here were groups 
still more rude and picturesque ; and it needed but a sudden 
onset of Blackfeet, and a quick transition from a fantastic revel 
to a furious melee, to have rendered this picture of a trapper’s 
life complete. 

The beer frolic, however, passed off without any untoward 
circumstance; and, unlike most drinking bouts, left neither 
headache nor heartache behind. Captain Bonneville now 
directed his course up along Bear Eiver ; amusing himself oc- 
casionally with hunting the buffalo with which the country 
was covered. Sometimes when he saw a huge bull taking his 
repose in a prairie, he would steal along a ravine, until close 
upon him; then rouse him from his meditations with a pebble, 
and take a shot at him as he started up. Such is the quick- 
ness with which this animal springs upon his legs, that it is 
not easy to discover the muscular process by which it is 
effected. The horse rises first upon his forelegs, and the 
domestic cow upon her hinder limbs, but the buffalo bounds 
at once from a couchant to an erect position with a celerity 
that bafl9.es the eye. Though from his bulk and rolling gait 
he does not appear to run with much swiftness ; yet it takes a 
stanch horse to overtake him, when at full speed on level 
ground ; and a buffalo cow is still fleeter in her motion. 

Among the Indians and half-breeds of the party were several 
admirable horsemen and bold hunters, who amused them- 
selves with a grotesque kind of buffalo bait. Whenever they 
found a huge bull in the plains, they prepared for their teas- 
ing and barbarous sport. Surrounding him on horseback, 
they would discharge their arrows at him in quick succession, 
goading him to make an attack; which, with a dexterous 
movement of the horse, they would easily avoid. In this way 
they hovered round him, feathering him with arrows, as he 
reared and plunged about, until he was bristled all over like a 
porcupine. When they perceived in him signs of exhaustion, 
and he could no longer be provoked to make battle, they would 
dismount from their horses, approach him in the rear, and 
seizing him by the tail, jerk him from side to side, and drag 
him backward; until the frantic animal, gathering fresh 
strength from fury, would break from them, and rush, with 
flashing eyes and a hoarse bellowing, upon any enemy in 



230 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

sight; but in a little while, his transient excitement at an end, 
would pitch headlong on the ground and expire. The arrows 
were then plucked forth, the tongue cut out and preserved as 
a dainty, and the carcass left a banquet for the wolves. 

Pursuing his course up Bear River, Captain Bonneville ar- 
rived, on the 13th of June, at the Little Snake Lake ; where he 
encamped for four or five days, that he might examine its 
shores and outlets. The latter he found extremely muddy, 
and so surrounded by swamps and quagmires that he was 
obliged to construct canoes of rushes with which to explore 
them. The mouths of all the streams which fall into this lake 
from the west are marshy and inconsiderable ; but on the east 
side there is a beautiful beach, broken occasionally by high 
and isolated bluffs, which advance upon the lake, and heighten 
the character of the scenery. The water is very shallow, but 
abounds with trout, and other small fish. 

Having finished his survey of the lake. Captain Bonneville 
proceeded on his journey, until on the banks of the Bear River, 
some distance higher up, he came upon the party which he 
had detached a year before, to circumambulate the Great Salt 
Lake, and ascertain its extent, and the nature of its shores. 
They had been encamped here about twenty days ; and were 
greatly rejoiced at meeting once more with their comrades 
from whom they had so long been separated. The first in- 
quiry of Captain Bonneville was about the result of their 
journey, and the information they had procured as to the 
Great Salt Lake, the object of his intense curiosity and am- 
bition. The substance of their report will he found in the fol- 
lowing chapter. 



' ADVEJSTURES OF GAPTAIE BO JS NEVILLE. 281 



CHAPTER XXXYIII. 

PLAN OF THE SALT LAKE EXPEDITION— GREAT SANDY DESERTS— 
SUFFERINGS FROM THIRST— OGDEN’S RIVER— TRAILS AND SMOKE 
OF LURKING SAVAGES— THEFTS AT NIGHT— A TRAPPER'S RE- 
VENGE — ALARMS OF A GUILTY CONSCIENCE — A MURDEROUS 
VICTORY— CALIFORNIAN MOUNTAINS— PLAINS ALONG THE PACI- 
FIC — ARRIVAL AT MONTEREY— ACCOUNT OF THE PLACE AND 
NEIGHBORHOOD— LOWER CALIFORNIA— ITS EXTENT— THE PEN- 
INSULA — SOIL — CLIMATE — PRODUCTION — ITS SETTLEMENT BY 
THE JESUITS— THEIR SWAY OVER THE INDIANS— THEIR EX- 
PULSION-RUINS OF A MISSIONARY ESTABLISHMENT — SUBLIME 
SCENERY— UPPER CALIFORNIA— MISSIONS— THEIR POWER AND 
POLICY— RESOURCES OF THE COUNTRY— DESIGNS OF FOREIGN 
NATIONS. 

It was on the 24th of July, in the preceding year (1833), that 
the brigade of forty men set out from Green Eiver valley, to 
explore the Great Salt Lake. They were to make the complete 
circuit of it, trapping on all the streams which should fpJl in 
their way, and to keep journals and make charts, calculated 
to impart a knowledge of the lake and the surrounding coun- 
try. All the resources of Captain Bonneville had been tasked 
to fit out this favorite expedition. The country lying to the 
southwest of the mountains, and ranging down to California, 
was as yet almost unknown; being out of the buffalo range, it 
was untraversed by the trapper, who preferred those parts of 
the wilderness where the roaming herds of that species of ani- 
mal gave him comparatively an abundant and luxurious life. 
Still it was said that the deer, the elk, and the bighorn were to 
be found there, so that with a little diligence and economy, 
there was no danger of lacking food. As a precaution, how- 
ever, the party halted on Bear Eiver and hunted for a few 
days, until they had laid in a supply of dried buffalo meat and 
venison; they then passed by the head- waters of the Cassie 
Eiver, and soon found themselves launched on an immense 
sandy desert. Southwardly, on their left, they beheld the 
Great Salt Lake spread out like a sea, but they found no 
stream running into it. A desert extended around them, and 



332 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



stretched to the southwest as far as the eye could reach, rivah 
ling the deserts of Asia and Africa in sterility. -There was 
neither tree, nor herbage, nor spring, nor pool, nor running 
stream— nothing but parched wastes of sand, where horse and 
rider were in danger of perishing. 

Their sufferings, at length, became so great that they aban- 
doned their intended course, and made toward a range of 
snowy mountains brightening in the north, where they hoped 
to find water. After a time, they came upon a small stream 
leading directly toward these mountains. Having quenched 
their burning thirst, and refreshed themselves and their weary 
horses for a time, they kept along this stream, which grad- 
ually increased in size, being fed by numerous brooks. After 
approaching the mountains, it took a sweep toward the south* 
west, and tiie travellers still kept along it, trapping beaver as 
they went, on the flesh of which they subsisted for the present, 
husbanding their dried meat for future necessities. 

The stream on which they had thus fallen is called by 
some, Mary Eiver, but is more generally known as Ogden’s 
River, from Mr. Peter Ogden, an enterprising and intrepid 
leader of the Hudson’s Bay Company who first explored it. 
The wild and half desert region through wliich the travel- 
lers were passing is wandered over by hordes of Shoshokoes, 
or Root Diggers, the forlorn branch of the Snake tribe. They 
are a shy people, prone to keep aloof from the stranger. The 
travellers frequently met with their trails and saw the smoke 
of their fires rising in various parts of the vast landscape, 
so that they knew there were great numbers in the neigh- 
borhood, but scarcely ever were any of them to be met with. 

After a time, they began to have vexatious proofs that, if 
the Shoshokoes were quiet by day, they were busy at night. 
The camp was dogged by these eavesdroppers ; scarce a morn- 
ing but various articles were missing, yet nothing could be 
seen of the marauders. What particularly exasperated the 
hunters, was to have their traps stolen from the streams. 
One morning a trapper of a violent and savage character, 
discovering that his traps had been carried off in the night, 
took a horrid oath to kill the first Indian he should meet, 
innocent or guilty. As he was returning with his comrades 
to camp, he beheld two unfortunate Diggers, seated on the 
river bank, fishing. Advancing uponthem, he levelled his rifle, 
shot one upon the spot, and flung his bleeding body into the 
stream. The other Indian fled, and was suffered to escai)e. 



ADVENTUnm OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 233 



Such is the indifference with which acts of violence are re- 
garded in the wilderness, and such the immunity an armed 
rufhan enjoys beyond the barriers of the laws, that the only 
punishment this desperado met with, was a rebuke from 
the leader of the party. 

The trappers now left the scene of this infamous tragedy, and 
kept on westward down the course of the river, which wound 
along with a range of mountains on the right hand and a sandy 
but somewhat fertile plain on the left. As they proceeded, 
they beheld columns of smoke rising, as before, in various di- 
rections, which their guilty consciences now converted into 
alarm signals, to arouse the country and collect the scattered 
bands for vengeance. 

After a time the natives began to make their appearance, 
and sometimes in considerable numbers, but always pacific; 
the trappers, however, suspected them of deep-laid plans to 
draw them into ambuscades ; to crowd into and get possession 
of their camp, and various other crafty and daring conspiracies 
which, it is probable, never entered into the heads of the poor 
savages. In fact, they are a simple, timid, inoffensive race, 
unpractised in warfare, and scarce provided with any weapons, 
excepting for the chase. Their lives are passed in the great 
sand plains and along the adjacent rivers; they subsist some- 
times on fish, at other times on roots and the seeds of a plant 
called the cat’s-tail. They are of the same kind of people that 
Captain Bonneville found upon Snake Eiver, and whom he 
found so mild and inoffensive. 

The trappers, however, had persuaded themselves that they 
were making their way through a hostile country, and that 
implacable foes hung round their camp or beset their path, 
watching for an opportunity to surprise them. At length one 
day they came to the banks of a stream emptying into Ogden’s 
River, which they were obliged to ford. Here a great number 
of Shoshokoes were posted on the opposite bank. Persuaded 
they were there with hostile intent, they advanced upon them, 
levelled their rifles, and killed twenty-five of them on the spot. 
The rest fled to a short distance, then halted and turned about 
howling and whining like wolves, and uttering the most pite- 
ous wailings. The trappers chased them in every direction ; 
the poor wretches made no defence, but fled with terror; 
neither does it appear from the accounts of the boasted victors, 
that a weapon had been wielded or a weapon launched by the 
Indians throughout the affair. We feel perfectly convinced 



234 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



that the poor savages had no hostile intention, but had merely 
gathered together through motives of curiosity, as others of 
their tribe had done when Captain Bonneville and his compan^ 
ions passed along Snake River. 

The trappers continued down Ogden’s River, until they as- 
certained that it lost itself in a great swampy lake, to which 
there was no apparent discharge. They then struck directly 
westward, across the great chain of Californian mountains in- 
tervening between these interior plains and the shores of the 
Pacific. 

For three and twenty days they were entangled among these 
mountains, the peaks and ridges of which are in many places 
covered with perpetual snow. Their passes and defiles present 
the wildest scenery, partaking of the sublime rather than the 
beautiful, and abounding with frightful precipices. The suffer- 
ings of the travellers among these savage mountains were ex- 
treme; for a part of the time they were nearly starved; at 
length they made their way through them, and came down 
upon the plains of New California, a fertile region extending 
along the coast, with magnificent forests, verdant savannas, 
and prairies that looked like stately parks. Here they found 
deer and other game in abundance, and indemnified themselves 
for past famine. They now turned toward the south, and 
passing numerous small bands of natives, posted upon various 
streams, arrived at the Spanish village and post of Monterey. 

This is a small place, containing about two hundred houses, 
situated in latitude 37^ north. It has a capacious bay, with in- 
different anchorage. 'The surrounding country is extremely 
fertile, especially in the valleys ; the soil is richer the further 
you penetrate into the interior, and the climate is described as 
a perpetual spring. Indeed, all California, extending along the 
Pacific Ocean from latitude 19° 30' to 42° north, is represented 
as one of the most fertile and beautiful regions in North 
America. 

Lower Calif omia, in length about seven hundred miles, forms 
a great peninsula, which crosses the tropics and terminates in 
the torrid zone. It is separated from the mainland by the Gulf 
of California, sometimes called the Vermilion Sea ; into this gulf 
empties the Colorado of the West, the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green 
River, as it is also sometimes called. The peninsula is traversed 
by stern and barren mountains, and has many sandy plains, 
where the only sign of vegetation is the cylindrical cactus 
growing among the clefts of the rocks. Wherever there is 



ADVENTURES OF CARTA IN BONNEVILLE. 235 



water, however, and vegetable mould, the ardent nature of the 
chmate quickens everything into astonishing fertility. There 
are valleys luxuriant with the rich and beautiful productions 
of the tropics. There the sugar-cane and indigo plant attain a 
perfection unequalled in any other part of North America. 
There flourish the olive, the fig, the date, the orange, the cit- 
ron, the pomegranate, and other fruits belonging to the volup- 
tuous climates of the south ; with grapes in abundance, thpt 
yield a generous wine. In the interior are salt plains ; silver 
mines and scanty veins of gold are said, hkewise, to exist; 
and pearls of a beautiful water are to be fished upon the coast. 

The peninsula of. California was settled in 1698, by the 
Jesuits, who, certainly, as far as the natives were concerned, 
have generally proved the most beneficent of colonists. In the 
present instance, they gained and maintained a footing in the 
country without the aid of military force, but solely by reli- 
gious influence. They formed a treaty, and entered into the 
most amicable relations with the natives, then numbering from 
twenty-five to thirty thousand souls, and gained a hold upon 
their affections, and a control over their minds, that effected 
a complete change in their condition. They built eleven nus- 
sionary establishments in the various valleys of the peninsula, 
which formed rallying places for the surrounding savages, 
where they gathered together as sheep into the fold, and sur- 
rendered themselves and their consciences into the hands of 
these spiritual pastors. Nothing, we are told, could exceed the 
implicit and affectionate devotion of the Indian converts to the 
Jesuit fathers, and the Catholic faith was disseminated widely 
through the wilderness. 

The growing power and influence of the Jesuits in the New 
World at length excited the jealousy of the Spanish govern- 
ment, and they were banished from the colonies. The gover- 
nor, who arrived in California to expel them, and to take 
charge of the country, expected to find a rich and powerful 
fraternity, with immense treasures hoarded in their missions, 
and an army of Indians ready to defend them. On the con- 
trary, he beheld a few venerable silver-haired priests coming 
humbly forward to meet him, followed by a throng of weeping, 
but submissive natives. The heart of the governor, it is said, 
was so touched by this unexpected sight that he shed tears-, 
but he had to execute his orders. The Jesuits were accom- 
panied to the place of their embarkation by their simple and 
affectionate parishioners, who took leave of them with tears 



236 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and sobs. Many of the latter abandoned their hereditary 
abodes, and wandered off to join their southern brethren, so 
that but a remnant remained in the peninsula. The Francis- 
cans immediately succeeded the Jesuits, and subsequently the 
Dominicans ; but the latter managed their affairs ill. But two 
of the missionary establishments are at present occupied by 
priests ; the rest are all in ruins, excepting one, which remains 
a monument of the former power and prosperity of the order. 
This is a noble edifice, once the seat of the chief of the resident 
Jesuits. It is situated in a beautiful valley, about half way 
between the Gulf of Cahfornia and the broad ocean, the penin- 
sula being here about sixty miles wide. The edifice is of hewn 
stone, one story high, two hundred and ten feet in front, and 
about fifty-five feet deep. The walls are six feet thick, and 
sixteen feet higli, with a vaulted roof of stone, about two feet 
and a half in thickness. It is now abandoned and desolate ; 
the beautiful valley is without an inhabitant — not a human 
being resides within thirty miles of the place ! 

In approaching this deserted mission-house from the south, 
the traveller passes over the mountain of San Juan, supposed 
to be the highest peak in the Cahfornias. From this lofty 
eminence, a vast and magnificent prospect unfolds itself ; the 
great Gulf of California, with the dark blue sea beyond, stud- 
ded with islands ; and in another direction, the immense lava 
plain of San Gabriel. The splendor of the climate gives an 
Italian effect to the immense prospect. The sky is of a deep 
blue color, and the sunsets are often magnificent beyond de- 
scription. Such is a slight and imperfect sketch of this remark- 
able peninsula. 

Upper California extends from latitude 31° 10' to 42° on the 
Pacific, and inland, to the great chain of snow-capped moun- 
tains which divide it from the sand plains of the interior. 
There are about twenty-one missions in this province, most of 
which were established about fifty years since, and are gener- 
ally under the care of the Franciscans. These exert a protect- 
ing sway over about thirty-five thousand Indian converts, who 
reside on the lands around the mission houses. Each of these 
houses has fifteen miles square of land allotted to it, subdivided 
into small lots, proportioned to the number of Indian con- 
verts attached to the mission. Some are enclosed with high 
walls; but in general they are open hamlets, composed of rows 
of huts, built of sunburned bricks ; in some instances white- 
washed and roofed with tiles. Many of them are far in the 



AVVKJSTUliILh 0¥ CAPTAIN BONNKYILLIU. 



3H7 



interior, beyond the reach of all military protection, and de 
pendent entirely on the good-will of the natives, which never 
fails them. They have made considerable progress in teaching 
the Indians the useful arts. There are native tanners, shoe- 
makers, weavers, blacksmiths, stonecutters, and other artifi- 
cers attached to each establishment. Others are taught 
husbandry, and the rearing of cattle and horses; while the 
females card and spin wool, weave, and perform the other 
duties allotted to their sex in civilized life. No socia] inter- 
course is allowed between the unmarried of the opposite sexes 
after working hours ; and at night they are locked up in sepa- 
rate apartments, and the keys delivered to the priests. 

The produce of the lands, and all the profits arising from 
sales, are entirely at the disposal of the priests ; whatever is 
not required for the support of the missions goes to augment a 
fund which is under their control. Hides and tallow constitute 
the principal riches of the missions, and, indeed, the main 
commerce of the country. Grain might be produced to an un- 
limited extent at the establishments, were there a sufficient 
market for it. Olives and grapes are also reared at the mis- 
sions. 

Horses and horned cattle abound throughout all this region; 
the former may be purchased at from three to five doUars, but 
they are of an inferior breed. Mules, which are here of a large 
size and of valuable qualities, cost from seven to ten dollars. 

There are several excellent ports along this coast. San 
Diego, San Barbara, Monterey, the bay of San Francisco, and 
the northern port of Bondago ; all afford anchorage for ships 
of the largest class. The port of San Francisco is too well 
known to require much notice in this place. The entrance 
from the sea is sixty-seven fathoms deep, and within, whole 
navies might ride with perfect safety. Two large rivers, 
which take their rise in mountains two or three hundred miles 
to the east, and run through a country unsurpassed for soil 
and climate, empty themselves into the harbor. The country 
around affords admirable timber for sliip-building. In a word, 
this favored port combines advantages which not only fit it for 
a grand naval depot, but almost render it capable of being 
made the dominant military post of these seas. 

Such is a feeble outline of the Californian coast and country, 
the value of which is more and more attracting the attention 
of naval powers. The Russians have always a ship of war 
upon this station, and have alrcad7f encroached upon the Cali- 



238 ADVENTURES OF 0 APT AIN BONNEVILTE, 



fornian boundaries, by taking possession of the port of Bon 
dago, and fortifying it with several guns. Kecent surveys 
have likewise been made, both by the Russians and the Eng- 
hsh, and we have little doubt, that, at no very distant day, this 
neglected, and, until recently, almost unknown region, will be 
found to possess sources of wealth sufficient to sustain a power- 
ful and prosperous empire. Its inhabitants themselves are but 
little aware of its real riches ; they have not enterprise suffi- 
cient to acquaint themselves with a vast interior that lies 
almost a terra incognita ; nor have they the skill and industry 
to cultivate properly the fertile tracts along the coast ; nor to 
prosecute that foreign commerce which brings aU the resources 
of a country into profitable action. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

GAY LIFE AT MONTEREY- MEXICAN HORSEMEN— A BOLD DRAGOON 
—USE OF THE LASSO— VAQUEROS— NOOSING A BEAR— FIGHT 
BETWEEN A BULL AND A BEAR— DEPARTURE FROM MONTEREY 
—INDIAN HORSE-STEALERS— OUTRAGES COMMITTED BY THE 
TRAVELLERS— INDIGNATION OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

The wandering band of trappers were weU received at Mon- 
terey, the inhabitants were desirous of retaining them among 
them, and offered extravagant wages to such as were ac- 
quainted with any mechanic art. When they went into the 
country, too, they were kindly treated by the priests at the 
missions; who are always hospitable to strangers, whatever 
may be their rank or religion. They had no lack of provisions ; 
being permitted to kill as many as they pleased of the vast 
herds of cattle that graze the country, on condition, merely, 
of rendering the hides to the owners. They attended bull- 
fights and horse races ; forgot all the purposes of their expedi- 
tion; squandered away, freely, the property that did not be 
long to them; and, in a word, revelled in a perfect fool’s 
paradise. 

What especially delighted them was the equestrian skill of 
the Californians. The vast number and the cheapness of the 
horses in this country makes every one a cavalier. The Mexi- 
cans and half-breeds of California sjoend the greater part ot 



aDVENTUIIES of captain BONNEVILLE. 239 



their time in the saddle. They are fearless riders ; and their 
daring feats upon unbroken colts and wild horses astonished 
our trappers, though accustomed to the bold riders of the 
prairie. 

A Mexican horseman has much resemblance, in many points, 
to the equestrians of Old Spain, and especially to the vain- 
glorious Caballero of Andalusia. A Mexican dragoon, for 
instance, is represented as arrayed in a round blue jacket, with 
red cuifs and collar; blue velvet breeches, unbuttoned at the 
knees to show his white stockings; bottinas of deer skin; a 
round-crowned Andalusian hat, and his hair cued. On the 
pommel of his saddle he carries balanced a long musket, with 
fox-skin round the lock. He is cased in a cuirass of double- 
fold deer-skin, and carries a bull’s hide shield ; he is forked in 
a Moorish saddle, high before and behind ; his feet are thrust 
into wooden box stirrups, of Moorish fashion, and a tremen- 
dous pair of iron spurs, fastened by chains, jingle at his heels. 
Thus equipped, and suitably mounted, he considers himself the 
glory of California and the terror of the universe. 

The Californian horsemen seldom ride out without the lasso ; 
that is to say, a long coil of cord, with a slip noose ; with which 
they are expert, almost to a miracle. The lasso, now almost 
entirely confined to Spanish America, is said to be of great 
antiquity ; and to have come originally from the East. It was 
used, we are told, by a pastoral people of Persian descent ; of 
whom eight thousand accompanied the army of Xerxes. By 
the Spanish Americans it is used for a variety of purposes; 
and among others for hauling wood. Without dismounting, 
they cast the noose round a log, and thus drag it to their 
houses. The vaqueros, or Indian cattle drivers, have also 
learned the use of the lasso from the Spaniards, and employ it 
io catch the half -wild cattle by throwing it round their horns. 

The lasso is also of great use in furnishing the public with a 
favorite though barbarous sport ; the combat between a bear 
and a wild bull. For this purpose, three or four horsemen 
sally forth to some wood frequented by bears, and, depositing 
the carcass of a bullock, hide themselves in the vicinity. The 
bears are soon attracted by the bait. As soon as one, fit for 
their purpose, makes his appearance, they run out, and with 
the lasso, dexterously noose him by either leg. After dragging 
him at full speed until he is fatigued, they secure him more 
effectually ; and tying him on the carcass of the bullock, draw 
him in triumph to the scene of action. By this time he is ex- 



240 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



asperated to such frenzy that they are sometimes obliged to 
throw cold water on him, to moderate his fury; and dangerous 
would it be for horse and rider were he, while in this paroxysm, 
to break his bonds. 

A wild bull, of the fiercest kind, which has been caught and 
exasperated in the same manner, is now produced, and both 
animals are turned loose in the arena of a small amphitheatre. 
The mortal fight begins instantly ; and always, at first, to the 
disadvantage of Bruin; fatigued, as he is, by his previous 
rough riding. Eoused, at length, by the repeated goring of the 
bull, he seizes his muzzle with his sharp claws, and chnging to 
this most sensitive part, causes him to bellow with rage hnd 
agony. In his heat and fury, the bull lolls out his tongue ; this 
is instantly clutched by the bear; with a desperate effort he 
overturns his huge antagonist, and then dispatches him with- 
out difficulty. 

Beside this diversion, the travellers were likewise regaled 
with bull fights, in the genuine style of Old Spain ; the Cali- 
fornians being considered the best bull* fighters in the Mexican 
dominions. 

After a considerable sojourn at Monterey, spent in these 
very edifying, but not very profitable amusements, the leader 
of this vagabond party set out with his comrades on his return 
journey. Instead of retracing their steps through the moun- 
tains, they passed round their southern extremity, and, cross- 
ing a range of low hills, found themselves in the sandy plains 
south of Ogden’s Eiver; in traversing which, they again suf- 
fered grievously for want of water. 

In the course of their journey, they encountered a party of 
Mexicans in pursuit of a gang of natives, who had been steal- 
ing horses. The savages of this part of California are repre- 
sented as extremely poor, and armed only with stone-pointed 
arrows ; it being the wise policy of the Spaniards not to fur- 
nish them with firearms. As they find it difficult, with their 
blunt shafts, to kill the wild game of the mountains, they oc* 
casionally supply themselves with food, by entrapping the 
Spanish horses. Driving them stealthily into fastnesses and 
ravines, they slaughter them without difficulty, and dry their 
flesh for provisions. Some they carry off, to trade with dis- 
tant tribes ; and in this way, the Spanish horses pass from 
hand to hand among the Indians, until they even find their 
way across the Eocky Mountains. 

The Mexicans are continually on the alert, to intercept these 



ADVE^^'TUnu:S OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 241 



marauders ; but the Indians are apt to outwit them, and force 
them to make long and wild expeditions in pursuit of their 
stolen horses. 

Two of the Mexican party just mentioned joined the band 
of trappers, and proved themselves worthy companions. In 
the course of their journey through the country frequented by 
the poor Eoot Diggers, there seems to have been an emulation 
]3etween them, which could inflict the greatest outrages upon 
the natives. The trappers still considered them in the light 
of dangerous foes and the Mexicans, very probably, charged 
them with the sin of horse-stealing; we have no other mode of 
accoimting for the infamous barbarities of which, according to 
their own story, they were guilty; hunting the poor Indians 
like wild beasts, and killing them without mercy. The Mexi- 
cans excelled at this savage sport ; chasing their unfortunate 
victims at full speed; noosing them round the neck with 
their lassoes, and then dragging them to death ! 

Such are the scanty details of this most disgraceful expedi- 
tion; at least, such are all that Captain Bonneville had the 
patience to collect, for he was so deeply grieved by the failure 
of his plans, and so indignant at the atrocities related to him, 
that he turned, with disgust and horror, from the narrators. 
Had he exerted a little of the Lynch law of the wilderness, and 
hanged those dexterous horsemen in their own lassoes, it would 
but have been a well-merited and salutary act of retributive 
justice. The failure of this expedition was a blow to his pride, 
and a still greater blow to his purse. The Great Salt Lake 
still remained unexplored ; at the same time, the means which 
had been furnished so liberally to fit out this favorite expedi- 
tion, had all been squandered at Monterey ; and the peltries, 
also, which had been collected on the way. He would have 
but scanty returns, therefore, to make this year, to his asso- 
ciates in the United States; and there was great danger of 
their becoming disheartened, and abandoning the enterprise. 



242 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



CHAPTER XL. 

travellers’ tales— INDIAN LURKERS — PROGNOSTICS OF BUCK- 
EYE— SIGNS AND PORTENTS — THE MEDICINE WOLF— AN ALARM— 
AN AMBUSH — THE CAPTURED PRO V ANT— TRIUMPH OF BUCKEYE 
— ARRIVAL OF SUPPLIES— GRAND CAROUSE— ARRANGEMENTS FOR 
THE YEAR— MR. WYETH AND HIS NEW-LEVIED BAND. 

The horror and indignation felt by Captain Bonneville at 
the excesses of the Californian adventurers were not partici- 
pated by his men ; on the contrary, the events of that expedi- 
tion were favorite themes in the camp. The heroes of Mom 
terey bore the palm in all the gossipings among the hunters. 
Their glowing descriptions of Spanish bear-baits and bull- 
fights especially, were listened to with intense delight; and 
had another expedition to California been proposed, the diffi- 
culty would have been to restrain a general eagerness to 
volunteer. 

The captain had not long been at the rendezvous when he 
perceived, by various signs, that Indians were lurking in the 
neighborhood. It was evident that the Blackfoot band, which 
he had seen when on his march, had dogged his party, and 
were intent on mischief. He endeavored to keep his camp on 
the alert; but it is as difficult to maintain discipline among 
trappers at a rendezvous as among sailors when in port. 

Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was scandalized at this 
heedlessness of the hunters when an enemy was at hand, and 
was continually preaching up caution. He was a little prone 
to play the prophet, and to deal in signs and portents, which 
occasionally excited the merriment of his white comrades. 
He was a great dreamer, and believed in charms and talis 
mans, or medicines, and could foretell the approach of 
strangers by the howling or barking of the small prairie wolf. 
This animal, being driven by the larger wolves from the car- 
casses left on the hunting grounds by the hunters, follows the 
trail of the fresh meat carried to the camp. Here the smell of 
the roast and broiled, mingling with every breeze, keeps them 
hovering about the neighborhood ; scenting every blast, turn- 
ing up their noses like hungry hounds, and testifying their 



ABVENTUEES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 243 



pinching hunger by long whining howls and impatient bark- 
ings. These are interpreted by the superstitious Indians into 
warnings that strangers are at hand ; and one accidental coin- 
cidence, like the chance fulfilment of an almanac prediction, 
is sufficient to cover a thousand failures. This little, whining, 
feast-smelling animal is, therefore, called among Indians the 
“medicine wolf;” and such was one of Buckeye’s infallible 
oracles. 

One morning early, the soothsaying Delaware appeared with 
a gloomy countenance. His mind was full of dismal presenti- 
ments, whether from mysterious dreams, or the intimations of 
the medicine wolf, does not appear. “ Danger,” he said, “ was 
lurking in their path, and there would be some fighting before 
sunset.” He was bantered for his prophecy, which was at- 
tributed to his having supped too heartily, and been visited by 
bad dreams. In the course of the morning a party of hunters 
set out in pursuit of buffalo, taking with them a mule, to bring 
home the meat they should procure. They had been some 
few hours absent, when they came clattering at full speed 
into camp, giving the war cry of Blackfeet ! Blackfeet ! Every 
one seized his weapon, and ran to learn the cause of the alarm. 
It appeared that the hunters, as they were returning leisurely, 
leading their mule well laden with prime pieces of buffalo 
meat, passed close by a small stream overhung with trees, 
about two miles from the camp. Suddenly a party of Black- 
feet, who lay in ambush along the thickets, sprang up with a 
fearful yell, and discharged a voUey at the hunters. The latter 
immediately threw themselves flat on their horses, put them 
to their speed, and never paused to look behind, until they 
found themselves in camp. Fortunately, they had escaped 
without a wound; but the mule, with all the “provant,” had 
fallen into the hands of the enemy. This was a loss, as well 
as an insult, not to be borne. Every man sprang to horse, 
and with rifle in hand, galloped off to punish the Blackfeet, 
and rescue the buffalo beef. They came too late ; the maraud- 
ers were off, and all that they found of their mule was the 
dents of his hoofs, as he had been conveyed off at a round 
trot, bearing his savory cargo to the hills, to furnish the 
scampering savages with a banquet of roast meat at the ex- 
pense of the white men. 

The party returned to camp, balked of their revenge, but 
still more grievously balked of their supper. Buckeye, the 
Delaware, sg^t sraoking by his fire, perfectly composed. 



244 AVVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



the hunters related the particulars of the attack, he listened 
in silence, with unruffled countenance, then pointing to the 
west, ‘‘the sun has not yet set,” said he: “Buckeye did not 
dream like a fool !” 

All present now recollected the prediction of the Indian at 
daybreak, and were struck with what appeared to be its fulfil- 
ment. They called to mind, also, a long catalogue of foregone 
presentiments and predictions made at various times by the 
Delaware, and, in their superstitious credulity, began to con- 
sider him a veritable seer ; without thinking how natural it 
was to predict danger, and how likely to have the prediction 
verified in the present instance, when various signs gave evi- 
dence of a lurking foe. 

The various bands of Captain Bonneville’s company had now 
been assembled for some time at the rendezvous ; they had had 
their fill of feasting, and frolicking, and aU the species of wild 
and often uncouth merry-making, which invariably take place 
on these occasions. Their horses, as well as themselves, had 
recovered from past famine and fatigue, and were again fit for 
active service; and an impatience began to manifest itself 
among the men once more to take the field, and set olf on 
some wandering expedition. 

At this juncture M. Cerre arrived at the rendezvous at the 
head of a supply party, bringing goods and equipments from 
the States. This active leader, it will be recollected, had em- 
barked the year previously in skin-boats on the Bighorn, 
freighted with the year’s collection of peltries. He had met 
with misfortunes in the course of his voyage : one of his frail 
barks being upset, and part of the furs lost or damaged. 

The arrival of the supplies gave the regular finish to the 
annual revel. A grand outbreak of wild debauch ensued 
among the mountaineers ; drinking, dancing, swaggering, 
gambling, quarrelling, and fighting. Alcohol, which, from 
its portable qualities, containing the greatest quantity of. 
fiery spirit in the smallest compass, is the only liquor carried 
across the mountains^ is the inflammatory beverage at these 
carousals, and is dealt out to the trappers at four dollars a 
pint. When inflamed by this fiery beverage, they cut all 
kinds of mad pranks and gambols, and sometimes burn all 
their clothes in their drunken bravadoes. A camp, recovering 
from one of these riotous revels, presents a serio-comic specta- 
cle; black eyes, broken heads, lack-lustre visages. Many of 
the trappers have squandered in one drunken Holic the hard' * 



AnVENTURRS OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 245 



earned wages of a year ; some have run in debt, and must toil 
on to pay for past pleasure. All are sated with this deep 
draught of pleasure, and eager to commence another trapping 
campaign ; for hardship and hard work, spiced with the stim- 
ulants of wild adventures, and topped olf with an annual fran- 
tic carousal, is the lot of the restless trapper. 

The captain now made his arrangements for the current 
year. Cerre and Walker, with a number of men who had 
been to California, were to proceed to St. Louis with the pack» 
ages of furs collected during the past year. Another party, 
headed by a leader named Montero, was to proceed to the 
Crow country, trap upon its various streams, and among the 
Black Hills, and thence to proceed to the Arkansas, where he 
was to go into winter quarters. 

The captain marked out for himself a widely different 
course. He intended to make another expedition, with 
twenty-three men to the lower part of the Columbia River, 
and to proceed to the valley of the Multnomah; after winter- 
ing in those parts, and establishing a trade with those tribes, 
among whc«?^ he had sojourned on his first visit, he would 
return in the spring, cross the Rocky Mountains, and join 
Montero and his party in the month of July, at the rendezvous 
of the Arkansaw ; where he expected to receive his annual sup- 
plies from the States. 

If the reader will cast his eye upon a map, he may form an 
idea of the contempt for distance which a man acquires in this 
vast wilderness, by noticing the extent of country comprised 
in these projected wanderings. Just as the different parties 
were about to set out op the 3d of July, on their opposite, 
routes. Captain Bonneville received intelligence that Wyeth, 
the indefatigable leader of the salmon-fishing enterprise, who 
had parted v/ith him about a year previously on the banks of 
the Bighorn, to descend that wild river in a bull boat, was near 
at hand, with a new levied band of hunters and trappers, and 
was on his way once more to the banks of the Columbia. 

As we take much interest in the novel enterprise of this 
‘‘eastern man,” and are pleased with his pushing and perse- 
vering spirit ; and as his movements are characteristic of life 
in the wilderness, we will, with the reader’s permission, while 
Captain Bonneville is breaking up his camp and saddling his 
horses, step back a year in time, and a few hundred miles in 
distance, to the bank of the Bighorn, and launch ourselves 
with Wyeth in his bull boat; and though his adventurous 



246 aj:)Ventures of captain Bonneville. 



voyage will take us many hundreds of miles further down 
wild and wandering rivers; yet such is the magic power of 
the pen, that we promise to bring the reader safe to Bear 
River valley, by the time the last horse is saddled. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

A VOYAGE IN A BULL BOAT. 

It was about the middle of August (1833) that Mr. Nathaniel 
J. Wyeth, as the reader may recollect, launched his bull boat 
at the foot of the rapids of the Bighorn, and departed in ad- 
vance of the parties of Campbell and Captain BonneviUe. His 
boat was made of three buffalo skins, stretched on a light 
frame, stitched together, and the seams paid with elk tallow 
and ashes. It was eighteen feet long, and about five feet six 
inches wide, sharp at each end, with a round bottom, and drew 
about a foot and a half of water— a depth too great for these 
upper rivers, which abound with shallows and sand-bars. The 
crew consisted of two half-breeds, who claimed to be white 
men, though a mixture of the French creole and the Shawnee 
and Potawattomie. They claimed, moreover, to be thorough 
mountaineers, and first-rate hunters — the common boast of 
these vagabonds of the wilderness. Besides these, there was 
a Nez Perce lad of eighteen years of age, a kind of servant of 
all work, whose great aim, like all Indian servants, was to do 
as little work as possible; there was, moreover, a half-breed 
boy, of thirteen, named Baptiste, son of a Hudson’s Bay trader 
by a Flathead beauty; who was travelling with Wyeth to see 
the world and complete his education. Add to these, Mr. Mil- 
ton Sublette, who went as passenger, and we have the crew of 
the httle bull boat complete. 

It certainly was a slight armament with which to run the 
gauntlet through countries swarming with hostile hordes, and 
a slight bark to navigate these endless rivers, tossing and 
pitching down rapids, running on snags and bumping on sand- 
bars; such, however, are the cockle-shells with which these 
hardy rovers of the wilderness will attempt the wildest 
streams ; and it is surprising what rough shocks and thumps 
these boats will endure, and what vicissitudes they will live 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 247 



through. Their duration, however, is but limited; they re- 
quire frequently to be hauled out of the water and dried, to 
prevent the hides from becoming water-soaked; and they 
eventually rot and go to pieces. 

The course of the river was a little to the north of east; it 
ran about five miles an hour, over a gravelly bottom. The 
banks were generally alluvial, and thickly grown with cotton 
wood trees, intermingled occasionally with ash and plum treeSc 
Now and then limestone cliffs and promontories advanced 
upon the river, making picturesque headlands. Beyond the 
woody borders rose ranges of naked hills. 

Milton Sublette was the Pelorus of this adventurous bark; 
being somewhat experienced in this wild kind of navigation. 
It required all his attention and skill, however, to pilot her 
clear of sand-bars and snags of sunken trees. There was often, 
too, a perplexity of choice, where the river branched into 
various channels, among clusters of islands : and occasionally 
the voyagers found themselves aground and had to turn back. 

It was necessary, also, to keep a wary eye upon the land, 
for they were passing through the heart of the Crow country, 
and were continually in reach of any ambush that might be 
lurking on shore. The most formidable foes that they saw, 
however, were three grizzly bears, quietly promenading along 
the bank, who seemed to gaze at them with surprise as they 
glided by. Herds of buffalo, also, were moving about, or 
lying on the ground, like cattle in a pasture ; excepting such 
inhabitants as these, a perfect solitude reigned over the land. 
There was no sign of human habitation ; for the Crows, as we 
have already shown, are a wandering people, a race of hunters 
and warriors, who live in tents and on horseback, and are con- 
tinually on the move. 

At night they landed, hauled up their boat to dry, pitched 
their tent, and made a rousing fire. Then, as it was the first 
evening of their voyage, they indulged in a regale, relishing 
their buffalo beef with inspiring alcohol; after which, they 
slept soundly, without dreaming of Crows or Blackfeet. Early 
in the morning, they again launched the boat and committed 
themselves to the stream. 

In this way they voyaged for two days without any material 
occurrence, excepting a severe thunder storm, wMch com- 
pelled them to put to shore, and wait until it was passed. On 
the third morning they descried some persons at a distance on 
the river bank. As they were now, by calculation, at no great 



248 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



distance from Fort Cass, a trading post of the American Fur 
Company, they supposed these might be some of its people. 
A nearer approach showed them to be Indians. Descrying a 
woman apart from the rest, they landed and accosted her. 
She informed them that the main force of the Crow nation, 
consisting of five bands, under their several chiefs, were but 
about two or three miles below, on their way up along the 
river. This was unpleasant tidings, but to retreat was impos- 
sible, and the river afforded no hiding place. They continued 
forward, therefore, trusting that, as Fort Cass was so near at 
hand, the Crows might refrain from any depredations. 

Floating down about two miles further, they came in sight 
of the first band, scattered along the river bank, all well 
mounted; some armed with guns, others with bows and ar- 
rows, and a few with lances. They made a wildly picturesque 
appearance, managing their horses with their accustomed dex- 
terity and grace. Nothing can be more spirited than a band 
of Crow cavaliers. They are a fine race of men, averaging six 
feet in height, lithe and active, with hawks’ eyes and Eoman ' 
noses. The latter feature is common to the Indians on the 
east side of the Rocky Mountains ; those on the western side 
have generally straight or flat noses. 

Wyeth would fain have slipped by this cavalcade unnoticed; 
but the river, at this place, was not more than ninety yards 
across; he was perceived, therefore, and hailed by the vaga- 
bond warriors, and, we presume, in no very choice language ; 
for, among their other accomplishments, the Crows are famed 
for possessing a Billingsgate vocabulary of unrivalled opu- 
lence, and for being by no means sparing of it whenever an 
occasion offers. Indeed, though Indians are generally very 
lofty, rhetorical, and figurative in their language at all great 
talks, and high ceremonials, yet, if trappers and traders may 
be believed, they are the most unsavory vagabonds in their 
ordinary colloquies ; they make no hesitation to call a spade a 
spade ; and when they once undertake to call hard names, the 
famous pot and kettle, of vituperating memory, are not to be 
compared with them for scurrility of epithet. 

To escape the infliction of any compliments of this kind, or 
the launching, peradventure, of more dangerous missiles, 
Wyeth landed with the best grace in his power, and ap- 
proached the chief of the band. It was Arapooish, the quon- 
dam friend of Rose the outlaw, and one whom we have al- 
ready mentioned as being anxious to promote a friendly inter' 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 249 



course between his tribe and the white men. He was a tall, 
stout man, of good presence, and received the voyagers very 
graciously. His people, too, thronged around them, and were 
officiously attentive after the Crow fashion. One took a great 
fancy to Baptiste the Flathead boy, and a still greater fancy 
to a ring on his finger, which he transposed to his own \’rith 
surprising dexterity, and then disappeared with a quick step 
among the crowd. 

Another was no less pleased with the Nez Perce lad, ajid 
nothing would do but he must exchange knives with him ; 
drawing a new knife out of the Nez Perce’s scabbard, and 
putting an old one in its place. Another stepped up and 
replaced this old knife with one still older, and a third helped 
himself to knife, scabbard and all. It was with much diffi- 
culty that Wyeth and his companions extricated themselves 
from the clutches of these officious Crows before they were 
entirely plucked. 

Falling down the river a little further, they came in sight of 
the second band, and sheered to the opposite side, with the 
intention of passing them. The Crows were not to be evaded. 
Some pointed their guns at the boat, and threatened to fire ; 
others stripped, plunged into the stream, and came swimming 
across. Making a virtue of necessity, Wyeth threw a cord to 
the first that came within reach, as if he wished to be drawn 
to the shore. 

In this way he was overhauled by every band, and by the 
time he and his people came out of the busy hands of the last, 
they were eased of most of their superfluities. Nothing, in all 
probabihty, but the proximity of the American trading post, 
kept these land pirates from making a good prize of the bull 
boat and all its contents. 

These bands were in full march, equipped for war, and 
evidently full of mischief. They were, in fact, the very bands 
that overran the land in thb autumn of 1833; partly robbed 
Fitzpatrick of his horses and effects; hunted and harassed 
Captain Bonneville and his people; broke up their trapping 
campaigns, and, in a word, drove them all out of the Crow 
country. It has been suspected that they were set on to these 
pranks by some of the American Fur Company, anxious to 
defeat the plans of their rivals of the Eocky Mountain Com- 
pany ; for at this time, their ‘competition was at its height, and 
the trade of the Crow country was a great object of rivalry. 
What makes this the more probable, is, that the Crows 



250 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



their depredation seemed by no means bloodthirsty, but intent 
chiefly on robbing the parties of their traps and horses, 
thereby disabling them from prosecuting their hunting- 

We should observe that this year, ‘he Eocky Mountain 
Company were pushing their way up the rivers, and establish- 
ing rival posts near those of the American Company; and 
that, at the very time of which we are speaking, Captain Sub- 
lette was ascending the Yellowstone with a keel boat, laden 
with supplies ; so that there was every prospect of this eager 
rivalship being carried to extremities. 

The last band of Crow warriors had scarce disappeared in 
the cloud of dust they had raised, when our voyagers arrived 
at the mouth of the river, and glided into the current of the 
Yellowstone. Turning down this stream, they made for Fort 
Cass, which is situated on the right bank, about three miles 
below the Bighorn. On the opposite side they beheld a party 
of thirty-one savages, which they soon ascertained to be 
Blackfeet. The width of the river enabled them to keep at a 
sufficient distance, and they soon landed at Fort Cass. This 
was a mere f oi tiflcation against Indians ; being a stockade of 
about one hundred and thirty feet square, with two bastions 
at the extreme corners. M’TuUoch, an agent of the American 
Company, was stationed there with twenty men ; two boats of 
fifteen tons burden were lying here ; but at certain seasons of 
the year a steamboat can come up to the fort. 

They had scarcely arrived, when the Blackfeet warriors 
made their appearance on the opposite bank, displaying two 
American flags in token of amity. They plunged into the 
river, swam across, and were kindly received at the fort. 
They were some of the very men who had been engaged, the 
year previously, in the battle at Pierre’s Hole, and a fierce- 
looking set of fellows they were; tall and hawk-nosed, and 
very much resembhng the Crows. They professed to be on an 
amicable errand, to make peace with the Crows, and set off in 
all haste, before night, to overtake them. Wyeth predicted 
that they would lose their scalps; for he had heard the Crows 
denounce vengeance on them, for having murdered two of 
their warriors who had ventured among them on the faith of 
a treaty of peace. It is probable, however, that this pacific 
errand was all a pretence, and that the real object of the 
Blackfeet braves was to hang about the skirts of the Crow 
bands, steal their horses, and take the scalps of stragglers. 

At Fort Cass, Mr. Wyeth disposed of some packages oJ 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 2b I 



beaver, and a quantity of bufEalo robes. On the following 
morning (August 18 th), he once more launched his bull boat, 
and proceeded down the Yellowstone, which inclined in an 
east-northeast direction. The river had alluvial bottoms, 
fringed with great quantities of the sweet cotton-wood, and 
interrupted occasionally by “bluffs” of sandstone. The cur- 
rent occasionally brings down fragments of granite and por- 
phyry. 

In the course of the day, they saw something moving on the 
hank among the trees, which they mistook for game of some 
kind; and, being in want of provisions, pulled toward shore. 
They discovered, just in time, a party of Blackfeet, lurking in 
the thickets, and sheered, with aU speed, to the opposite side 
of the river. 

After a time, they came in sight of a gang of elk. Wyeth 
was immediately for pursuing them, rifle in hand, but saw 
evident signs of dissatisfaction in his half-breed hunters : who 
considered him as trenching upon their province, and med- 
dling with things quite above his capacity ; for these veterans 
of the wilderness are exceedingly pragmatical, on points of 
venery and woodcraft, and tenacious of their superiority; 
looking down with infinite contemiDt upon all raw beginners. 
The two worthies, therefore, sallied forth themselves, but 
after a time returned empty-handed. They laid the blame, 
however, entirely on their guns; two miserable old pieces 
with flint locks, which, with all their picking and hammering, 
were continually apt to miss Are. These great boasters of the 
wilderness, however, are very often exceeding bad shots, and 
fortunate it is for them when they have old flint guns to bear 
the blame. 

The next day they passed where a great herd of buffalo 
were bellowing on a prairie. Again the Castor and Pollux of 
the wilderness sallied forth, and again their flint guns were at 
fault, and missed Are, and nothing went off but the buffalo. 
Wyeth now found there was danger of losing his dinner if he 
depended upon his hunters; he took rifle in hand, therefore, 
and went forth himself. In the course of an hour he returned 
laden with buffalo meat, to the great mortification of the two 
regular hunters, who were annoyed at being eclipsed by a 
greenhorn. 

All hands now set to work to prepare the midday repast. 
A fire was made under an immense cotton-wood tree, that 
overshadowed a beautiful piece of meadow laud ; rich morsete 



252 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



of buffalo hump were soon roasting before it ; in a hearty and 
prolonged repast, the two unsuccessful hunters -gradually 
recovered from their mortification ; threatened to discard their 
old flint guns as soon as they should reach the settlements, 
and boasted more than ever of the wonderful shots they had 
made, when they had guns that never missed fire. 

Having hauled up their boat to dry in the sun, previous to 
making their repast, the voyagers now set it once more afloat, 
and proceeded on their way. They had constructed a sail out of 
their old tent, which they hoisted whenever the wind was favor - 
able, and thus skimmed along down the stream. Their voy- 
age was pleasant, notwithstanding the perils by sea and land, 
with which they were environed. Whenever they could they 
encamped on islands for the greater security. If on the main- 
land, and in a dangerous neighborhood, they would shift their 
camp after dark, leaving their fire burning, dropping down the 
river to some distance, and making no fire at their second en- 
campment. Sometimes they would float all night with the 
current ; one keeping watch and steering while the rest slept : 
in such case, they would haul their boat on shore, at noon of 
the following day to dry; for notwithstanding every precau- 
tion, she was gradually getting water-soaked and rotten. 

There was something pleasingly solemn and mysterious in 
thus floating down these wild rivers at night. The purity of 
the atmosphere in these elevated regions gave additional splen- 
dor to the stars, and heightened the magnificence of the fir- 
mament. The occasional rush and laving of the waters ; the 
vague sounds from the surrounding wilderness; the dreary 
howl, or rather whine of wolves from the plains; the low 
grunting and bellowing of the buffalo, and the shrill neighing 
of the elk, struck the ear with an effect unknown in the day- 
time. 

The two knowing hunters had scarcely recovered from one 
mortification when they were fated to experience another. As 
the boat was gliding swiftly round a low promontory, thinly 
covered with trees, one of them gave the alarm of Indians. 
The boat was instantly shoved from shore and every one 
caught up his rifle. Where are they?” cried Wyeth. 

“ There —there ! riding on horseback!” cried one of the 
hunters. 

“Yes; with white scarfs on!” cried the other. 

Wyeth looked in the direction they pointed, but descried 
nothing but two bald eagles, perched on a low dry branch 



ADVKJSTURliJS OF CAPTAIN BONNKVILLE. 25:3 



beyond the thickets, and seeming, from the rapid motion of 
the boat, to be moving swiftly in an opposite direction. The 
detection of this blunder in the two veterans, who prided 
themselves on the sureness and quickness of their sight, pro- 
duced a hearty laugh at their expense, and put an end to their 
vauntings. 

The Yellowstone, above the confluence of the Bighorn, is a 
clear stream ; its waters were now gradually growing turbid, 
and assuming the yellow clay color of the Missouri. The cur- 
rent was about four miles an hour, with occasional rapids; 
some of them dangerous, but the voyagers passed them all 
without accident. The banks of the river were in many places 
precipitous with strata of bituminous coal. 

They now entered a region abounding with buffalo — that 
ever- journeying animal, which moves in countless droves from 
point to point of the vast wilderness ; traversing plains, pour- 
ing through the intricate defiles of mountains, swimming 
rivers, ever on the mfove, guided on its boundless migrations 
by some traditionary knowledge, like the finny tribes of the 
ocean, which, at certain seasons. And their mysterious paths 
across the deep and revisit the remotest shores. 

These great migratory herds of buffalo have their hereditary 
paths and highways, worn deep through the country, and 
making for the surest passes of the mountains, and the most 
practicable fords of the rivers. When once a great column 
is in full career, it goes straight forward, regardless of all 
obstacles ; those in front being impelled by the moving mass 
behind. At such times they will break through a camp, 
trampling down everything in their course. 

It was the lot of the voyagers, one night, to encamp at one 
of these buffalo landing places, and exactly on the trail. They 
had not been long asleep, when they were awakened by a great 
bellowing, and tramping, and the rush, and splash, and snort- 
ing of animals in the river. They had just time to ascertain 
that a buffalo army was entering the river on the opposite side, 
and making toward the landing place. With all haste they 
moved their boat and shifted their camp, by which time the 
head of the column had reached the shore, and came pressing 
up the bank. 

It was a singular spectacle, by the uncertain moonlight, to 
behold this countless throng making their way across the river, 
blowing, and bellowing, and splashing. Sometimes they pass 
in such dense and continuous column as to form a temporary 



654 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

dam across the river, the waters of which rise and rush over 
their hacks, or between their squadrons. The roaring and rush 
ing sound of one of these vast herds crossing a river, may 
sometimes in a still night be heard for miles. 

The voyagers now had game in profusion. They could kill 
as many buffalo as they pleased, and, occasionally, were wan- 
ton in their havoc; especially among scattered herds, that 
came swimming near the boat. On one occasion, an old buffalo 
bull approached so near that the half-breeds must fain try to 
noose him as they would a wild horse. The noose was success- 
fully thrown around his head, and secured him by the horns, 
and they now promised themselves ample sport. The buffalo 
made a prodigious turmoil in the water, bellowing, and blow- 
ing, and floundering; and they all floated down the stream to- 
gether. At length he found foothold on a sandbar, and taking 
to his heels, whirled the boat after him like a whale when har- 
pooned ; so that the hunters were obliged to cast off their rope, 
with which strange head-gear the venerable bull made off to 
the prairies. 

On the 24th of August, the bull boat emerged, with its 
adventurous crew, into the broad bosom of the mighty Mis- 
souri. Here, about six miles above the mouth of the Yellow- 
stone, the voyagers landed at Fort Union, the distributing post 
of the American Fur Company in the western country. It was 
a stockaded fortress, about two hundred and twenty feet 
square, pleasantly situated on a high bank. Here they were 
hospitably entertained by Mr. M’Kenzie, the superintendent, 
and remained with him three days, enjoying the unusual 
luxuries of bread, butter, milk, and cheese, for the fort was 
well supplied with domestic cattle, though it had no garden. 
The atmosphere of these elevated regions is said to be too 
dry for the culture of vegetables; yet the voyagers, in coming 
down the Yellowstone, had met with plums, grapes, cherries, 
and currants, and had observed ash and elm trees. Where 
these grow the climate cannot be incompatible with garden- 
ing. 

At Fort Union, Wyeth met with a melancholy memento of 
one of his nien. This was a powder-flask, which a clerk had 
purchased from a Blackfoot warrior. It bore the initials of 
poor More, the unfortunate youth murdered the year pre^ 
viously, at Jackson’s Hole, by the Blackfeet, and whose bones 
had been subsequently found by Captain Bonneville. This 
flask had either been passed from hand to hand of the tribe, 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 255 



or, perhaps, had been brought to the fort by the very savage 
who slew him. 

As the bull boat was now nearly worn out, and altogether 
unfit for the broader and more turbulent stream of the Mis- 
souri, it was given up, and a canoe of cotton-wood, about 
tvfenty feet long, fabricated by the Blackfeet, was purchased 
to supply its place. In this Wyeth hoisted his sail, and bid- 
ding adieu to the hospitable superintendent of Fort Union, 
burned his prow to the east, and set off down the Missouri. 

He had not proceeded many hours, before, in the evening, he 
came to a large keel boat at anchor. It proved to be the boat 
of Captain William Sublette, freighted with munitions for car- 
rying on a powerful opposition to the American Fur Company. 
The voyagers went on board, where they were treated with 
the hearty hospitality of the wilderness, and passed a social 
evening, talking over past scenes and adventures, and espec- 
ially the memorable fight at Pierre’s Hole. 

Here Milton Sublette determined to give up further voyag- 
ing in the canoe, and remain with his brother ; accordingly, in 
the morning, the fellow-voyagers took kind leave of each other, 
and Wyeth continued on his course. There was now no one 
on board of his boat that had ever voyaged on the Missouri ; it 
was, however, all plain sailing down the stream, without any 
chance of missing the way. 

AU day the voyagers pulled gently along, and landed in the 
evening and supped; then re-embarking, they suffered the 
canoe to float down with the current ; taking turns to watch 
and sleep. The night was calm and serene ; the elk kept up a * 
continual whinnying or squealing, being the commencement of 
the season when they are in heat. In the midst of the night 
the canoe struck on a sand-bar, and all hands were roused by 
the rush and roar of the wild waters, which broke around her. 
They were all obliged to jump overboard, and work hard to 
get her off, which was accomplished with much difiiculty. 

In the course of the following day they saw three grizzly 
bears at different times along the bank. The last one was on 
a point of land, and was evidently making for the river, to 
swim across. The two half-breed hunters were now eager to 
repeat the manoeuvre of the noose ; promising to entrap Bruin, 
and have rare sport in strangling and drowning him. Their 
only fear was, that he might take fright and return to land 
before they could get between him and the shore. Holding 
back, therefore, until he was fairly committed in the centre of 



256 ADVENTURES OF OaPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

the etream, they then pulled forward with might and main, so 
as to cut off his retreat, and take him in the rear. One of the 
worthies stationed himself in the bow, with the cord and slip- 
noose, the other, with the Nez Perce, 'managed the paddles. 
There was nothing further from the thoughts of honest Bruin, 
however, than to beat a retreat. Just as the canoe was draw- 
ing near, he turned suddenly round and made for it, with a 
horrible snarl and a tremendous show of teeth. The affrighted 
hunter called to his comrades to paddle off. Scarce had they 
turned the boat when the bear laid his enormous claws on the 
gunwale, and attempted to get on board. The canoe was nearly 
overturned, and a deluge of water came pouring over the gun- 
wale. All was clamor, terror, and confusion. Every one 
bawled out — the bear roared and snarled — one caught up a 
gun ; but water had rendered it useless. Others handled their 
paddles more effectually, and beating old Bruin about the head 
and claws, obliged him to relinquish his hold. They now plied 
their paddles with might and main, the bear made the best of 
his way to shore, and so ended the second exploit of the noose ; 
the hunters determining to have no more naval contests with 
grizzly bears. 

The voyagers were now out of the range of Crows and Black- 
feet ; but they were approaching the country of the Rees, or 
Arickaras ; a tribe no less dangerous ; and who were, generally, 
hostile to small parties. 

In passing through their country, Wyeth laid by all day, 
and drifted quietly down the river at night. In this way he 
passed on, until he supposed himself safely through the region 
of danger ; when he resumed his voyaging in the open day. 
On the 3d of September he had landed, at midday, to dine; 
and while some were making a fire, one of the hunters 
mounted a high bank to look out for game. He had scarce 
glanced his eye round, when he perceived horses grazing on 
the opposite side of the river. Crouching down he slunk back 
to the camp, and reported what he had seen. On further 
reconnoitring, the voyagers counted twenty-one lodges; and, 
from the number of horses, computed that there must be 
nearly a hundred Indians encamped there. They now drew 
their boat, with all speed and caution, into a thicket of water 
willows, and remained closely concealed all day. As soon as 
the night closed in they re-embarked. The moon would rise 
early ; so that they had but about two hours of darkness to get 
past the camp. The night, however, was cloudy, with a blus 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 257 



tering wind. Silently, and with muffled oars, they glided down 
the river, keeping close under the shore opposite to the camp ; 
watching its various lodges and fires, and the dark forms pass- 
ing to and fro between them. Suddenly, on turning a point of 
land, they found themselves close upon a camp on their own 
side of the river. It appeared that not more than one half of 
the band had crossed. They were within a few yards of the 
shore; they saw distinctly the savages— some standing, some 
lying round the fire. Horses were grazing around. Some 
lodges were set up, others had been sent across the river. The 
red glare of the fires upon these wild groups and harsh faces, 
contrasted with the surrounding darkness, had a startling 
effect, as the voyagers suddenly came upon the scene. The 
dogs of the camp perceived them, and harked ; hut the Indians, 
fortunately, took no heed of their clamor. Wyeth instantly 
sheered his boat out into the stream ; when, unluckily it struck 
upon a sand-bar, and stuck fast. It was a perilous and trying 
situation ; for he was fixed between the two camps, and within 
rifle range of both. All hands jumped out into the water, and 
tried to get the boat off ; but as no one dared to give the word, 
they could not pull together, and their labor was in vain. In 
this way they labored for a long time; until Wyeth thought of 
giving a signal for a general heave, by lifting his hat. The ex- 
pedient succeeded. They launched their canoe again into deep 
water, and getting in, had the delight of seeing the camp fires 
of the savages soon fading in the distance. 

They continued under way the greater part of the night, until 
far beyond all danger from this band, when they puUed to 
shore, and encamped. 

The following day was windy, and they came near upsetting 
their boat in carrying sail. Toward evening, the wind subsid- 
ed and a beautiful calm night succeeded. They floated along 
with the current throughout the night, taking turns to watch 
and steer. The deep stillness of the night was occasionally 
interrupted by the neighing of the elk, the hoarse lowing of 
the buffalo, the hooting of large owls, and the screeching of 
the small ones, now and then the splash of a beaver, or the 
gong-like sound of the swan. 

Part of their voyage was extremely tempestuous ; with high 
winds, tremendous thunder, and soaking rain ; and they were 
repeatedly in extreme danger from drift-wood and sunken 
trees. On one occasion, having continued to float at night, 
after the moon was down, they ran under a great snag, or 



258 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



sunken tree, with dry branches above the water. These caught 
the mast, while the boat swung round, broadside to the stream, 
and began to fill with water. Nothing saved her* from total 
wreck, but cutting away the mast. She then drove down the 
stream, but left one of the unlucky lialf -breeds chnging to the 
snag, like a monkey to a pole. It was necessary to run in 
shore, toil up, laboriously, along the eddies and to attain som§ 
distance above the snag, when they launched forth again into 
the stream, and floated down with it to his rescue. 

We forbear to detail aU the circumstances and adventures of 
upward of a month’s voyage, down the windings and doublings 
of this vast river ; in the course of which they stopped occa- 
sionally at a post of one of the rival *fur companies, or at a 
government agency for an Indian tribe. Neither shall we 
dwell upon the changes of climate and productions, as the 
voyagers swept down from north to south, across several de- 
grees of latitude; arriving at the regions of oaks and syca- 
mores ; of mulberry and basswood trees ; of paroquets and wild 
turkeys. This is one of the characteristics of the middle and 
lower part of the Missouri ; but still more so of the Mississippi, 
whose rapid current traverses a succession of latitudes so as in 
a few days to float the voyager almost from the frozen regions 
to the tropics. 

The voyage of Wyeth shows the regular and unobstructed 
flow of the rivers, on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, in 
contrast to those of the western side ; where rocks and rapids 
continually menace and obstruct the voyager. We find him 
in a frail bark of skins, launching himself in a stream at the 
foot of the Rocky Mountains, and floating down from river to 
river, as they empty themselves into each other; and so he 
might have kept on upward of two thousand miles, until his 
little bark should drift into the ocean. At present we shall 
stop with him at Cantonment Leavenworth, the frontier post 
of the United States ; where he arrived on the 27th of Septem* 
her. 

Here his first care was to have his Nez Perce Indian, and his 
half-breed boy, Baptiste, vaccinated. As they approached the 
fort, they were hailed by the sentinel. The sight of a soldier 
in full array, with what appeared to be a long knife glittering 
on the end of a musket, struck Baptiste with such affright that 
he took to his heels, bawhng for mercy at the top of his voice. 
The Nez Perce would have followed him, had not Wyeth as- 
sured him of his safety. When they underwent the operation 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 259 



of the lancet, the doctor’s wife and another lady were present ; 
both beautiful women. They were the first white women that 
they had seen, and they could not keep their eyes off of them. 
On returning to the boat, they recounted to their companions 
all that they had observed at the fort ; but were especially elo- 
quent about the white squaws, who, they said, were white as 
snow, and more beautiful than any human being they had ever 
beheld. 

We shall not accompany the captain any further in his voy- 
age ; but will simply state that he made his way to Boston, 
where he succeeded in organizing an association under the 
name of “ The Columbia River Fishing and Trading Company,” 
for his original objects of a salmon fishery and a trade in furs. 
A brig, the May Dacres, had been dispatched for the Columbia 
with supplies ; and he was now on his way to the same point, 
at the head of sixty men, whom he had enlisted at St. Louis ; 
some of whom were experienced hunters, and all more habitu- 
ated to the life of the wilderness than his first band of “ down- 
easters.” 

We will now return to Captain Bonneville and his party, 
whom we left, making up their packs and saddling their horses, 
in Bear River valley. 



CHAPTER XLH. 

DEPARTURE OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE FOR THE COLUMBIA— AD- 
VANCE OF WYETH— EFFORTS TO KEEP THE LEAD— HUDSON’S 
BAY PARTY— A JUNKETING — A DELECTABLE BEVERAGE— HONEY 
AND - ALCOHOL— HIGH CAROUSING — THE CANADIAN “BON VI- 
VANT” — A CACHE— A RAPID MOVE— WYETH AND HIS PLANS— 
HIS TRAVELLING COMPANIONS— BUFFALO HUNTING— MORE CON- 
VIVIALITY— AN INTERRUPTION. 

It was the 3d of July that Captain Bonneville set out on his 
second visit to the banks of the Columbia, at the head of 
twenty-three men. He travelled leisurely, to keep his horses 
fresh, until on the 10th of July a scout brought word that 
Wyeth, with his band, was but fifty miles in the rear, and 
pushing forward with all speed. This caused some bustle in 
the camp ; for it was important to get first to the buffalo ground 



260 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



to secure provisions for the journey. As the horses were too 
heavily laden to travel fast, a cache was digged, as promptly 
as possible, to receive all superfluous baggage. Just as it v/as 
flnished, a spring burst out of the earth at the bottom. Another 
cache was therefore digged, about two miles further on; when, 
as they were about to bury the effects, a line of horsemen with 
pack-horses, were seen streaking over the plain, and encamped 
close by. 

It proved to be a small band in the service of the Hudson’s 
Bay Company, under the command of a veteran Canadian; 
one of those petty leaders, who, with a small party of men, and 
a small supply of goods, are employed to follow up a band of 
Indians from one hunting ground to another, and buy up their 
peltries. 

Having received numerous civilities from the Hudson’s Bay 
Company, the captain sent an invitation to the officers of the 
party to an evening regale; and set to work to make jovial 
preparations. As the night air in these elevated regions is apt 
to be cold, a blazing fire was soon made, that would have done 
credit to a Christmas dinner, instead of a midsummer banquet. ' 
The parties met in high good-fellowship. There was abundance 
of such hunters’ fare as the neighborhood furnished ; and it was 
all discussed with mountain appetites. They talked over all 
the events of their late campaigns ; but the Canadian veteran 
had been unlucky in some of his transactions ; and his brow 
began to grow cloudy. Captain Bonneville remarked his rising 
spleen, and regretted that he had no juice of the grape to keep 
it down. 

A man’s wit, however, is quick and inventive in the wilder- 
ness; a thought suggested itself to the captain, how he might 
brew a delectable beverage. Among his stores was a keg of 
honey but half exhausted. This he filled up with alcohol, and 
stirred the fiery and mellifluous ingredients together. The 
glorious results may readily be imagined ; a happy compound 
of strength and sweetness, enough to soothe the most ruffied 
temper and unsettle the most solid understanding. 

The beverage worked to a charm ; the can circulated merrily ; 
the first deep draught washed out every care from the mind of 
the veteran; the second elevated his spirit to the clouds. He 
was, in fact, a boon companion ; as all veteran Canadian traders 
are apt to be. He now became glorious ; talked over all his ex^ 
ploits, his huntings, his fightings with Indian braves, his loves 
with Indian beauties ; sang snatches of old French ditties, and 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 261 



Canadian boat songs ; drank deeper and deeper, sang louder 
and louder ; until, having reached a climax of drunken gayety, 
he gradually declined, and at length fell fast asleep upon the 
ground. After a long nap he again raised his head, imbibed 
another potation of the ‘‘sweet and strong,” flashed up with 
another shght blaze of French gayety, and again fell asleep. 

The morning found him still upon the field of action, but in 
sad and sorrowful condition; suffering the penalties of past 
pleasures, and calling to mind the captain’s dulcet compound, 
with many a retch and spasm. It seemed as if the honey and 
alcohol, which had passed so glibly and smoothly over his 
tongue, were at war within his stomach ; and that he had a 
swarm of bees within his head. In short, so helpless and woe- 
begone was his plight, that his party proceeded on their march 
without him ; the captain promising to bring him on in safety 
in the after part of the day. 

As soon as this party had moved off. Captain Bonneville’s 
men proceeded to construct and fill their cache ; and just as it 
was completed the party of Wyeth was descried at a distance. 
In a moment all was activity to take the road. The horses 
were prepared and mounted ; and being lightened of a great 
part of their burdens, were able to move with celerity. As to 
the worthy convive of the preceding evening, he was carefully 
gathered up from the hunter’s couch on which he lay, re- 
pentant and supine, and, being packed upon one of the horses, 
was hurried forward with the convoy, groaning and ejaculat- 
ing at every jolt. 

In the course of the day, Wyeth, being lightly mounted, 
rode ahead of his party, and overtook Captain Bonneville. 
Their meeting was friendly and courteous ; and they discussed, 
sociably, their respective fortunes since they separated on the 
banks of the Bighorn. Wyeth announced his intention of 
establishing a small trading post at the mouth of the Port- 
neuf, and leaving a few men there, with a quantity of goods, 
to trade with the neighboring Indians. He was compelled, in 
fact, to this measure, in consequence of the refusal of the 
Rocky Mountain Fur Company to take a supply of goods 
which he had brought out for them according to contract ; and 
which he had no other mode of disposing of. He further in- 
formed Captain Bonneville that the competition between the 
Rocky Mountain and American Fur Companies which had 
led to such nefarious stratagems and deadly feuds, was at an 
end ; they having divided the country between them, allotting 



262 ADVENTUUES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



boundaries within which each was to trade and hunt, so as 
not to interfere with the other. 

In company with Wyeth were travelling two men of science ; 
Mr. Nuttall, the botanist; the same who ascended the Mis- 
souri at the time of the expedition to Astoria; and Mr. Town- 
shend, an ornithologist; from these gentlemen we may look 
forward to important information concerning these interest 
ing regions. There were three religious missionaries, also, 
bound to the shores of the Columbia, to spread the light of 
the Gospel in that far wilderness. 

After riding for some time together, in friendly conversa- 
tion, Wyeth returned to his party, and Captain Bonneville 
continued to press forward, and to gain ground. At night he 
sent off the sadly sober and morahzing chief of the Hudson’s 
Bay Company, under a proper escort, to rejoin his people; 
his route branching off in a . different direction. The latter 
took a cordial leave of his host, hoping, on some future occa- 
sion, to repay his hospitality in kind. 

In the morning the captain was early on the march ; throw- 
ing scouts out far ahead, to scour hiU and dale, in search of 
buffalo. He had confidently expected to find game, in abun- 
dance, on the head- waters of the Portneuf ; but on reaching 
that region, not a track was to be seen. 

At length, one of the scouts, who had made a wide sweep 
away to the head-waters of the Blackfoot Kiver, discovered 
great herds quietly grazing in the adjacent meadows. He set 
out on his return, to report his discoveries ; but night over- 
taking him, he was kindly and hospitably entertained at the 
camp of Wyeth. As soon as day dawned he hastened to his 
own camp with the welcome intelligence ; and about ten o’clock 
of the same morning, Captain Bonneville’s party were in the 
midst of the game. 

The packs were scarcely off the backs of the mules, when 
the runners, mounted on the fleetest horses, were fall tilt 
after the buffalo. Others of the men were busied erecting 
scaffolds, and other contrivances, for jerking or drying meat; 
others were fighting great fires for the same purpose ; soon the 
hunters began to make their appearance, bringing in the 
choicest morsels of buffalo meat ; these were placed upon the 
scaffolds, and the whole camp presented a scene of singular 
hurry and activity. At daylight the next morning, the run- 
ners again took the field, with similar success; and, after an in- 
terval of repose made their third and last chase, about twelve 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 2G3 



o’clock; for by this time, Wyeth’s party was in sight. The 
game being now driven into a valley, at some distance, Wyeth 
was obliged to fix his camp there ; but he came in the evening 
to pay Captain Bonneville a visit. He was accompanied by 
Captain Stewart, the amateur traveller ; who had not yet sated 
his appetite for the adventurous life of the wilderness. With 
him, also, was a Mr. M’Kay, a half-breed ; son of the unfor- 
tunate adventurer of the same name who came out in the first 
maritime expedition to Astoria and was blown up in the Ton- 
quin. His son had grown up in the employ of the British fur 
companies ; and was a prime hunter, and a daring partisan. 
He held, moreover, a farm in the valley of the Wallamut. 

The three visitors, when they reached Captain Bonneville’s 
camp, were surprised to find no one in it but himself and three 
men ; his party being dispersed in all directions, to make the 
most of their present chance for hunting. They remonstrated 
with him on the imprudence of remaining with so trifling a 
guard in a region so full of danger. Captain Bonneville vindi- 
cated the pohcy of his conduct. He never hesitated to send 
out all his hunters, when any important object was to be at- 
tained ; and experience had taught him that he was most secure 
when his forces were thus distributed over the surrounding 
country. He then v/as sure that no enemy could approach, 
from any direction, without being discovered by his hunters ; 
who have a quick eye for detecting the slightest signs of the 
proximity of Indians ; and who would instantly convey intelli- 
gence to the camp. 

The captain now set to work with his men, to prepare a suit- 
able entertainment for his guests. It was a time of plenty in 
the camp; of prime hunters’ dainties; of buffalo humps, and 
buffalo tongues ; and roasted ribs, and broiled marrow-bones : 
all these were cooked in hunters’ style ; served up with a pro- 
fusion known only on a plentiful hunting ground, and discussed 
with an appetite that would astonish the puny gourmands of 
the cities. But above all, and to give a bacchanalian grace to 
this truly masculine repast, the captain produced his mellifluous 
keg of home-brewed nectar, which had been so potent over the 
senses of the veteran of Hudson’s Bay. Potations, pottle deep, 
again went round ; never did beverage excite greater glee,, or 
meet with more rapturous commendation. The parties were 
fast advancing to that happy state which would have insured 
ample cause for the next day’s repentance ; and the bees were 
already beginning to buzz about their ears, when a messenger 



264 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



came spurring to the camp with intelligence that Wyeth’s peo- 
ple had got entangled in one of those deep and frightful ravines, 
piled with immense fragments of volcanic rock, which gash the 
whole country about the head-waters of the Blackfoot Eiver. 
The revel was instantly at an end ; the keg of sweet and potent 
home-brewed was deserted ; and the guests departed with all 
speed to aid in extricating their companions from the volcanic 
ravine. 



CHAPTER XLIIL 

A RAPID MARCH— A CLOUD OP DUST — WILD HORSEMEN — “HIGH 
jinks”— HORSE-RACING AND RIFLE-SHOOTING— THE GAME OF 
HAND— THE FISHING SEASON— MODE OF FISHING— TABLE LANDS 
—SALMON FISHERS— THE CAPTAIN’S VISIT TO AN INDIAN LODGE 
—THE INDIAN GIRL— THE POCKET MIRROR— SUPPER— TROUBLES 
OP AN EVIL CONSCIENCE. 

“ Up and away!” is the first thought at daylight of the In- 
dian trader, when a rival is at hand and distance is to he gained. 
Early in the morning, Captain Bonneville ordered the half 
dried meat to be packed upon the horses, and leaving Wyeth 
and his party to hunt the scattered buffalo, pushed oft rapidly 
to the east, to regain the plain of the Portneuf. His march 
was rugged and dangerous ; through volcanic hills, broken into 
cliffs and precipices; and seamed with tremendous chasms, 
where the rocks rose like walls. 

On the second day, however, he encamped once more in the 
plain, and as it was still early some of the men strolled out to 
the neighboring hills. In casting their eyes round the country, 
they perceived a great cloud of dust rising in the south, and 
evidently approaching. Hastening back to tho camp, they 
gave the alarm. Preparations were instantly made to receive 
an enemy ; while some of the men, throwing themselves upon 
the “ running horses” kept for hunting, galloped off to recon- 
noitre. In a h'.ttle while, they made signals from a distance 
that all was friendly. By this time the cloud of dust had swept 
on as if hurried along by a blast, and a band of wild horsemen 
came dashing at full leap into the camp, yelling and whooping 
like so many maniacs. Their dresses, their accoutrements, 
their mode of riding, and their uncouth clamor^ made them 



aVVEI^TURES of captain BONNEVILLE. 265 



seem a party of savages arrayed for war; but they proved 
to be principally half-breeds, and white men grown savage in 
the wilderness, who were employed as trappers and hunters in 
the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company. 

Here was again “high jinks” in the camp. Captain Bonne- 
ville’s men hailed these wild scamperers as congenial spirits, or 
rather as the very game birds of their class. They entertained 
them with the hospitality of mountaineers, feasting them at 
every fire. At first, there were mutual details of adventures 
and exploits, and broad joking mingled with peals of laughter. 
Then came on boasting of the comparative merits of horses and 
rifles, which soon engrossed every tongue. This naturally led 
to racing, and shooting at a mark ; one trial of speed and skill 
succeeded another, shouts and acclamations rose from the vic- 
torious parties, fierce altercations succeeded, and a general me- 
lee was about to take place, when suddenly the attention of the 
quarrellers was arrested by a strange kind of Indian chant oi* 
chorus, that seemed to operate upon them as a charm. Their 
fury was at an end ; a tacit reconciliation succeeded, and the 
ideas of the whole mongrel crowd — whites, half-breeds, and 
squaws — were turned in a new direction. They all formed into 
groups, and taking their places at the several fires, prepared 
for one of the most exciting amusements of the Nez Perces and 
the other tribes of the Far West. 

The choral chant, in fact, which had thus acted as a charm, 
was a kind of wild accompaniment to the favorite Indian game 
of “Hand.” This is played by two parties drawn out in oppo- 
site platoons before a blazing fire. It is in some respects like 
the old game of passing the ring or the button, and detecting 
the hand which holds it. In the present game, the object hid- 
den, or the cache as it is called by the trappers, is a small splint 
of wood, or other diminutive article, that may be concealed in 
the closed hand. This is passed backward and forward among 
the party “in hand,” while the party “out of hand” guess 
where it is concealed. To heighten the excitement and confuse 
the guessers, a number of dry poles are laid before each pla- 
toon, upon which the members of the party “in hand ’’beat 
furiously with short staves, keeping time to the choral chant 
already mentioned, v/hich waxes fast and furious as the game 
proceeds. As large bets are staked upon the game, the excite- 
ment is prodigious. Each party in turn bursts out in full cho- 
rus, beating, and yeUing, and working themselves up into such 
a heat that the perspiration rolls down their naked shoulders, 



266 AJDVENTUllES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



even in the cold of a winter night. The bets are doubled and 
trebled as the game advances, the mental excitement increases 
almost to madness, and all the worldly effects of the gamblers 
are often hazarded upon the position of a straw. 

These gambling games were kept up throughout the night ; 
every fire glared upon a group that looked like a crew of 
maniacs at their frantic orgies, and the scene would have been 
kept up throughout the succeeding day, had not Captain Bonne^ 
ville interposed his authority, and, at the usual hour, issued 
his marching orders. 

Proceeding down the course of Snake Eiver, the hunters 
regularly returned to camp in the evening laden with wild 
geese, which were yet scarcely able to fiy, and were easily 
caught in great numbers. It was now the season of the annual 
fish-feast, with which the Indians in these parts celebrate the 
first appearance of the salmon in this river. These fish are 
taken in great numbers at the mnnerous falls of about four feet 
pitch. The Indians fiank the shallow water just below, and 
spear them as they attempt to pass. In wide parts of the river, 
also, they place a sort of chevaux-de-frize, or fence, of poles in- 
terwoven with withes, and forming an angle in the middle of 
the current, where a small opening is left for the salmon to 
pass. Around this opening the Indians station themselves on 
small rafts, and ply their spears with great success. 

The table lands so common in this region have a sandy soil, 
inconsiderable in depth, and covered with sage, or more prop- 
erly speaking, wormwood. Below this is a level stratum of 
rock, riven occasionally by frightful chasms. The whole plain 
rises as it approaches the river, and terminates with high and 
broken cliffs, difficult to pass, and in many places so precipitous 
that it is impossible, for days together, to get down to the 
water’s edge, to give drink to the horses. This obliges the 
traveller occasionally to abandon the vicinity of the river, and 
make a wide sweep into the interior. 

It was now far in the month of July, and the party suffered 
extremely from sultry weather and dusty travelling. The flies 
and gnats, too, were extremely troublesome to the horses; 
especially when keeping along the edge of the river where it 
runs between low sand-banks. Whenever the travellers en- 
camped in the afternoon, the horses retired to the gravelly 
shores and remained there, without attempting to feed until 
the cool of the evening. As to the travellers, they plunged 
into the clear and cool current, to vv\‘ish away the dust of the 



ADVENTURES OE CAPTATN BONNEVILLE. 267 

road and refresh themselves after the heat of the day. The 
nights were always cool and pleasant. 

At one place where they encamped for some time, the river 
was nearly five hundred yards wide, and studded with grassy 
islands, adorned with groves of willow and cotton- wood. Here 
the Indians were assembled in great numbers, and had barri- 
caded the channels between the islands, to enable them to 
spear the salmon with greater facility. They were a timid 
race, and seemed unaccustomed to the sight of white men. 
Entering one of the huts,' Captain Bonneville found the inhab- 
itants just proceeding to cook a fine salmon. It is put into a 
pot filled with cold water, and hung over the fire. The 
moment the water begins to boil, the fish is considered cooked. 

Taking his seat unceremoniously, and lighting his pipe, the 
captain awaited the cooking of the fish, intending to invite 
himseK to the repast. The owner of the hut seemed to take 
his intrusion in good part. While conversing with him the 
captain felt something move behind him, and turning round 
and removing a few skins and old buffalo robes, discovered a 
young girl, about fourteen years of age, crouched beneath, who 
directed her large black eyes full in his face, and continued to 
gaze in mute surprise and terror. The captain endeavored to 
dispel her fears, and drawing a bright ribbon from his pocket, 
attempted repeatedly to tie it round her neck. She jerked 
back at each attempt, uttering a sound very much like a snarl ; 
nor could all the blandishments of the captain, albeit a pleas- 
ant, good-looking, and somewhat gallant man, succeed in con- 
quering the shyness of the savage little beauty. His attentions 
were now turned toward the parents, whom he presented with 
an awl and a little tobacco, and having thus secured their 
good-will, continued to smoke his pipe and watch the salmon. 
While thus seated near the threshold, an urchin of the family 
approached the door, but catching a sight of the strange guest, 
ran off screaming with terror and ensconced himself behind 
the long straw at the back of the hut. 

Desirous to dispel entirely this timidity, and to open a trade 
with the simple inhabitants of the hut, who, he did not doubt, 
had furs somewhere concealed, the captain now drew forth 
that grand lure in the eyes of a savage, a pocket mirror. The 
sight of it was irresistible. After examining it for a long 
time with wonder and admiration, they produced a musk-rat 
skin, and offered it in exchange. The captain shook his head ; 
but purchased the skin for a couple of buttons — superfiuous 



268 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



trinkets ! as the worthy lord of the hovel had neither coat nor 
breeches on which to place them. 

The mirror still continued the great object of desire, particu- 
larly in the eyes of the old housewife, who produced a pot of 
parched flour and a string of biscuit roots. These procured 
her some trifle in return ; but could not command the purchase 
of the mirror. The salmon being now completely cooked, they 
all joined heartily in supper. A bounteous portion was depos- 
ited before the captain by the old woman, upon some fresh 
grass, which served instead of a platter; and never had he 
tasted a salmon boiled so completely to his fancy. 

Supper being over, the captain lighted his pipe and passed it 
to his host, who, inhaling the smoke, puffed it through his 
nostrils so assiduously, that in a little while his head mani- 
fested signs of confusion and dizziness. Being satisfled, by 
this time, of the kindly and companionable qualities of the 
captain, he became easy and communicative; and at length 
hinted sometliing about exchanging beaver skins for horses. 
The captain at once offered to dispose of his steed, which stood 
fastened at the door. The bargain was soon concluded, where- 
upon the Indian, removing a pile of bushes under which his 
valuables were concealed, drew forth the number of skins 
agreed upon as the price. 

Shortly afterward, some of the captain’s people coming up, 
he ordered another horse to be saddled, and, mounting it, took 
his departure from the hut, after distributing a few trifling 
presents among its simple inhabitants. During all the time of 
his visit, the little Indian girl had kept her large black eyes 
flxed upon him, almost without winking, watching every 
movement with awe and wonder; and as he rode off, remained 
gazing after him, motionless as a statue. Her father, however, 
dehghted with his new acquaintance, mounted his newly pur- 
chased horse, and followed in the train of the captain, to whom 
he continued to be a faithful and useful adherent during his 
sojourn in the neighborhood. 

The cowardly effects of an evil conscience were evidenced in 
the conduct of one of the captain’s men, who had been in the 
Californian expedition. During all their intercourse with the 
harmless people of this place, he had manifested uneasiness 
and anxiety. While his companions mingled freely and joy- 
ously with the natives, he went about with a restless, sus- 
picious look; scrutinizing every painted form and face and 
starting often at the sudden approach of some meek and in^ 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



269 



offensive savage, who regarded him with reverence as a supe- 
rior being. Yet this was ordinarily a bold fellow, who never 
flinched from danger, nor turned pale at the prospect of a bat- 
tle. At length he requested permission of Captain Bonneville 
to keep out of the way of these people entirely. Their strik- 
ing resemblance, he said, to the people of Ogden’s River, made 
him continually fear that some among them might have 
seen him in that expedition; and might seek an oppor- 
tunity of revenge. Ever after this, while they remained 
in this neighborhood, he would skulk out of the way and 
keep aloof when any of the native inhabitants approached. 
‘‘Such,” observes Captain Bonneville, “is the effect of self- 
reproach, even upon the roving trapper in the wilderness, who 
has little else to fear than the stings of his own guilty con- 
science.” 



CHAPTER XLIV. 

OUTFIT OF A TRAPPER — RISKS TO WHICH HE IS SUBJECTED — 
PARTNERSHIP OF TRAPPERS — ENMITY OF INDIANS — DISTANT 
SMOKE— A COUNTRY ON FIRE— GUN CREEK — GRAND ROND— FINE 
PASTURES— PERPLEXITIES IN A SMOKY COUNTRY — CONFLAGRA- 
TION OF FORESTS. 

It had been the intention of Captain Bonneville, in descend- 
ing along Snake River, to scatter his trappers upon the smaller 
streams. In this way a range of country is trapped by small 
detachments from a main body. The outfit of a trapper is 
generally a rifle, a pound of powder, and four pounds of lead, 
with a bullet mould, seven traps, an axe, a hatchet, a knife 
and awl, a camp kettle, two blankets, and, where supplies are 
plenty, seven pounds of flour. He has, generally, two or three 
horses, to carry himself and his baggage and peltries. Two 
trappers commonly go together, for the purposes of mutual 
assistance and support ; a larger party could not easily escape 
the eyes of the Indians. It is a service of perils and even 
more so at present than formerly, for the Indians, since they 
have got into the habit of trafficking peltries with the traders, 
have learned the value- of the beaver, and look upon the trap- 
pers as poachers, who are filching the riches from their 
streams, and interfering with their market. They make no 



270 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



hesitation, therefore, to murder the solitary trapper, and thus 
destroy a competitor, while they possess themselves of his 
spoils. It is with regret we add, too, that this hostility has in 
many cases been instigated by traders, desirous of injuring 
their rivals, but who have themselves often reaped the fruits 
of the mischief they have sown. 

When two trappers undertake any considerable stream, 
their mode of proceeding is, to hide their horses in some lonely 
glen, where they can graze unobserved. They then build a 
small hut, dig out a canoe from a cotton- wood tree, and in this 
poke along shore silently, in the evening, and set their traps. 
These they revisit in the same silent way at daybreak. When 
tliey take any beaver they bring it home, skin it, stretch the 
skins on sticks to dry, and feast upon the flesh. The body, 
hung up before the Are, turns by its own weight, and is roasted 
in a superior style ; the tail is the trapper’s tidbit ; it is cut off, 
put on the end of a stick, and toasted, and is considered even 
a greater dainty than the tongue or the marrow-bone of a 
buffalo. 

With aU their silence and caution, however, the poor trap- 
pers cannot always escape their hawk-eyed enemies. Their 
trail has been discovered, perhaps, and followed up for many 
a mile; or their smoke has been seen curhng up out of the 
secret glen, or has been scented by the savages, whose sense of 
smell is almost as acute as that of sight. Sometimes they are 
pounced upon when in the act of setting their traps ; at other 
times, they are roused from their sleep by the horrid war- 
whoop ; or, perhaps, have a bullet or an arrow whisthng about 
their ears, in the midst of one of their beaver banquets. In 
this way they are picked off, from time to time, and nothing 
is known of them, until, perchance, their bones are found 
bleaching in some lonely ravine, or on the banks of some 
nameless stream, which from that time is called after them. 
Many of the small streams beyond the mountains thus perpet- 
uate the names of unfortunate trappers that have been mur- 
dered on their banks. 

A knowledge of these dangers deterred Captain Bonneville, 
in the present instance, from detaching small parties of trap- 
pers as he had intended ; for his scouts brought him word that 
formidable bands of the Banr 3ck Indians were lying on the 
Boisee and Payette Pivers, at no great distance, so that they 
would be apt to detect and cut off any stragglers. It behooved 
him, also, to keep his party together, to guard against any 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 271 



predatory attack upon the main body; he continued on his 
way, therefore, without dividing his forces. And fortunate it 
was that he did so ; for in a little while he encountered one of 
the phenomena of the western wilds that would effectually 
have prevented his scattered people from finding each other 
again. In a word, it was the season of setting fire to the prai- 
ries. As he advanced he began to perceive great clouds of 
smoke at a distance, rising by degrees, and spreading over the 
whole face of the country. The atmosphere became dry and 
surcharged with murky vapor, parching to the skin, and irri- 
tating to the eyes. When travelling among the hills, they 
could scarcely discern objects at the distance of a few paces ; 
indeed, the least exertion of the vision was painful. There 
was evidently some vast conflagration in the direction toward 
which they were proceeding; it was as yet at a great distance, 
and during the day they could only see the smoke rising in 
larger and denser volumes, and rolling forth in an immense 
canopy. At night the skies were all glowing with the reflec- 
tion of unseen fires, hanging in an immense body of lurid light 
high above the horizon. 

Having reached Gun Creek, an important stream coming 
from the left. Captain Bonneville turned up its course, to 
traverse the mountains and avoid the great bend of Snake 
River. Being now out of the range of the Bannecks, he sent 
out his people in all directions to hunt the antelope for present 
supplies ; keeping the dried meats for places where game might 
be scarce. 

During four days that the party were ascending Gun Creek, 
the smoke continued to increase so rapidly that it was impossi- 
ble to distinguish the face of the country and ascertain land- 
marks. Fortunately, the travellers fell upon an Indian trail, 
which led them to the head- waters of the Fourche de Glace or 
Ice River, sometimes called the Grand Rond. Here they 
found all the plains and valleys wrapped in one vast confla- 
gration ; which swept over the long grass in billows of flame, 
shot up every bush and tree, rose in great columns from the 
groves, and set up clouds of smoke that darkened the at- 
mosphere. To avoid this sea of fire, the travellers had to 
pursue their course close along the foot of the mountains ; but 
the irritation from the smoke continued to be tormenting. 

The country about the head-waters of the Grand Rond 
spreads out into broad and level prairies, extremely fertile, and 
watered by mountain springs ard rivulets. These prairies are 



272 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

resorted to by small bands of the Skynses, to pasture their 
horses, as well as to banquet upon the salmon which abound in 
the neighboring waters. They take these fish in great quanti- 
ties and without the least difficulty ; simply taking them out of 
the water with their hands, as they flounder and struggle in the 
numerous long shoals of the principal streams. At the time 
the travellers passed over these prairies, some of the narrow, 
deep streams by which they were intersected were completely 
choked with salmon, which they took in great numbers. The 
wolves and bears frequent these streams at this season, to 
avail themselves of these great fisheries. 

The travellers continued, for many days, to experience great 
difficulties and discomforts from this wide conflagration, which 
seemed to embrace the whole wilderness. The sun was for a 
great part of the time obscured by the smoke, and the loftiest 
mountains were hidden from view. Blundering along in this 
region of mist and uncertainty, they were frequently obliged 
to make long circuits, to avoid obstacles which they could not 
perceive until close upon them. The Indian trails were their 
safest guides, for though they sometimes appeared to lead 
them out of their direct course, they always conducted them 
to the passes. 

On the 26th of August, they reached the head of the Way- 
lee-way River. Here, in a valley of the mountains through 
which this head-water makes its way, they found a band of 
the Skynses, who were extremely sociable, and appeared to be 
well disposed, and as they spoke the Nez Perce language, an 
mtercourse was easily kept up with them. 

In the pastures on the bank of this stream, Captain Bonne- 
ville encamped for a time, for the purpose of recruiting the 
strength of his horses. Scouts were now sent out to explore 
the surrounding country, and search for a convenient pass 
through the mountains toward the Wallamut or Multnomah. 
After an absence of twenty days they returned weary and dis- 
couraged. They had been harassed and perplexed in rugged 
mountain defiles, where their progress was continually im- 
peded by rocks and precipices. Often they hq4 been obliged 
to travel along the edges of frightful ravines, where a false 
step would have been fatal. In one of these passes, a horse 
fell from the brink of a precipice, and would have been dashed 
to pieces had he not lodged among the branches of a tree, from 
which he was extricated with great difficulty. These, ho\\- 
ever, were not the worst of their difficulties and perils. The 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 273 



great conflagration of the country, which had harassed the 
main party in its march, was still more awful the further this 
exploring party proceeded. The flames which swept rapidly 
over the light vegetation of the prairies assumed a fierce?? 
character and took a stronger hold amid the wooded glens and 
ravines of the mountains. Some of the deep gorges and defiles 
sent up sheets of flame, and clouds of lurid smoke, and sparks 
and cinders that in the night made them resemble the craters 
of volcanoes. The groves and forests, too, which crowned the 
cliffs, shot up their towering columns of fire, and added to the 
furnace glow of the mountains. With these stupendous sights 
were combined the rushing blasts caused by the rarefied air, 
which roared and howled through the narrow glens, and 
whirled forth the smoke and flames in impetuous wreaths. 
Ever and anon, too, was heard the crash of falling trees, some- 
times tumbling from crags and precipices, with tremendous 
sounds. 

In the daytime, the mountains were wrapped in smoke so 
dense and blinding, that the explorers, if by chance they sepa^ 
rated, could only find each other by shouting. Often, too, 
they had to grope their way through the yet burning forests, 
in constant peril from the limbs and trunks of trees, which 
frequently fell across their path. At length they gave up the 
attempt to find a pass as hopeless, under actual circumstances, 
and made their way back to the camp to report their failure. 



CHAPTER XLV. 

THE SKYNSES — THEIR TRAFFIC — HUNTING — POOD — HORSES-- A 
HORSE-RACE — DEVOTIONAL FEELING OF THE SKYNSES, NEZ 
PERCES AND FLATHEADS — PRAYERS — EXHORTATIONS — A 
PREACHER ON HORSEBACK— EFFECT OF RELIGION ON THE MAN- 
NERS OF THE TRIBES— A NEW LIGHT. 

During the absence of this detachment, a sociable inter- 
course had been kept up between the main party and the 
Skynses, who had removed into the neighborhood of the camp. 
These people dwell about the waters of the Way-lee-way and 
the adjacent country, and trade regularly with the Hudson’s 
Bay Company; generally giving horses in exchange for the 



274 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



articles of which they stand in need. They bring beaver 
skins, also, to the trading posts ; not procured by trapping, 
but by a course of internal traffic with the shy and ignorant. 
Shoshokoes and Too-el-icans, who keep in distant and un^ 
frequented parts of the country, and will not venture near the 
trading houses. The Skynses hunt the dear and elk occasion- 
ally; and depend, for a part of the year, on fishing. Their 
main subsistence, however, is upon roots, especially the 
kamash. This bulbous root is said to be of a delicious fiavor, 
and highly nutritious. The women dig it up in great quanti- 
ties, steam it, and deposit it in caches for winter provisions. 
It grows spontaneously, and absolutely covers the plains. 

This tribe were comfortably clad and equipped. They had a 
few rifles among them, and were extremely desirous of bar- 
tering for those of Captain Bonneville’s men ; offering a couple 
of good running horses for a light rifle. Their first-rate horses, 
however, were not to be procured from them on any terms. 
They almost invariably use ponies ; but of a breed infinitely 
superior to any in the United States. They are fond of trying 
their speed and bottom, and of betting upon them. 

As Captain Bonneville was desirous of judging of the com- 
parative merit of their horses, he purchased one of their racers, 
and had a trial of speed between that, an American, and a 
Shoshonie, which were supposed to be well matched. The 
race-course was for the distance of one mile and a half out and 
back. For the first half mile the American took the lead by a 
few hands; but, losing his wind, soon fell far behind; leaving 
the Shoshonie and Skynse to contend together. For a mile 
and a half they went head and head: but at the turn the 
Skynse took the lead and won the race with great ease, scarce 
drawing a quick breath when all was over. 

The Skynses, like the Nez Perces and the Flatheads, have a 
strong devotional feeling, which has been successfully culti- 
vated by some of the resident personages of the Hudson’s Bay 
Company. Sunday is invariably kept sacred among these 
tribes. They will not raise their camp on that day, unless in 
extreme cases of danger or hunger: neither will they hunt, nor 
fish, nor trade, nor perform any kind of labor on that day. A 
part of it is passed in prayer and religious ceremonies. Some 
chief, who is generally at the same time what is called a 
‘‘medicine man,” assembles the community. After invoking 
blessings from the Deity, he addresses the assemblage, exhort^ 
ing them to good conduct ; to bo diligent in providing for their 



ABYENTUllES OF CAPTAIM BONNEVILLE, 275 



families ; to abstain from lying and stealing ; to avoid quarrel 
ling or cheating in their play, and to be just and hospitable to 
all strangers who may be among them. Prayers and exhorta- 
tions are also made, early in the morning, on week days. 
Sometimes, all this is done by the chief from horseback ; mov- 
ing slowly about the camp, with his hat on, and uttering his 
exhortations with a loud voice. On all occasions, the by« 
standers listen with profound attention; and at the end of 
every sentence respond one word in unison, apparently equiv- 
alent to an amen. While these prayers and exhortations are 
going on, every employment in the camp is suspended. If an 
Indian is riding by the place, he dismounts, holds his horse, 
and attends with reverence until all is done. When the chief 
has finished his prayer or exhortation, he says, I have done;” 
upon which there is a general exclamation in unison. 

With these religious services, probably derived from the 
white men, the tribes above-mentioned mingle some of their 
old Indian ceremonials, such as dancing to the cadence of a 
song or baUad, which is generally done in a large lodge pro- 
vided for the purpose. Besides Sundays, they likewise observe 
the cardinal holidays of the Roman Catholic Church. 

Whoever has introduced these simple forms of religion 
among these poor savages, has evidently understood their 
characters and capacities, and effected a great melioration of 
their manners. Of this we speak not merely from the testi- 
mony of Captain Bonneville, but likewise from that of Mr. 
Wyeth, who passed some months in a travelling camp ot* the 
Flatheads. “During the time I have been with them,” says he, 
“I have never known an instance of theft among them: the 
least thing, even to a bead or pin, is brought to you, if found ; 
and often, things that have been thrown away. Neither 
have I known any quarrelling, nor lying. This absence of all 
quarrelling the more surprised me, when I came to see the 
various occasions that would have given rise to it among the 
whites: the crowding together of from twelve to eighteen 
hundred horses, which have to be driven into camp at night, 
to be picketed, to be packed in the morning; the gathering of 
fuel in places where it is extremely scanty. All this, however, 
is done without confusion or disturbance. 

“They have a mild, playful, laughing disposition; and this 
is portrayed in their countenances. They are polite, and un- 
obtrusive. When one speaks, the rest pay strict attention: 
when he is done, another assents by ^ yes,’ or dissents by 'no;’ 



276 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



and then states his reasons, which are listened to with equal 
attention. Even the children are more peaceable than any 
other children. I never heard an angry word among them, 
nor any quarrelling ; although there were, at least, five hundred 
of them together, and continually at play. With all this 
quietness of spirit, they are brave when put to the test ; and 
are an overmatch for an equal number of Blackfeet.” 

The foregoing observations, though gathered from Mr. 
Wyeth as relative to the Flatheads, apply, in the main, to the 
Skynses also. Captain Bonneville, during his sojourn with 
the latter, took constant occasion, in conversing with their 
principal men, to encourage them in the cultivation of moral 
and religious habits; drawing a comparison between their 
peaceable and comfortable course of hfe and that of other 
tribes, and attributing it to their superior sense of morality 
and religion. He frequently attended their religious services, 
with his people ; always enjoining on the latter the most rever- 
ential deportment ; and he observed that the poor Indians were 
always pleased to have the white men present. 

The disposition of these tribes is evidently favorable to a 
considerable degree of civilization. A few farmers settled 
among them might lead them. Captain Bonneville thinks, to 
till the earth and cultivate grain ; the country of the Skynses 
and Nez Perces is admirably adapted for the raising of cattle. 
A Christian missionary or two, and some trifling assistance 
from government, to protect them from the predatory and 
warlike tribes, might lay the foundation of a Christian people 
in the midst of the great western wilderness, who would 
wear the Americans near their hearts.” 

We must not omit to observe, however, in qualification of 
the sanctity of this Sabbath in the wilderness, that these tribes 
who are all ardently addicted to gambling and horseracing, 
make Sunday a peculiar day for recreations of the kind, not 
deeming them in any wise out of season. After prayers and 
pious ceremonials are over, there is scarce an hour in the day, 
says Captain Bonneville, that you do not see several horses 
racing at full speed; and in every corner of the camp are 
groups of gamblers, ready to stake everything upon the all- 
absorbing game of hand. The Indians, says Wyeth, appear to 
enjoy their amusements with more zest than the whites. 
They are great gamblers ; and in proportion to their means, 
play bolder and bet higher than white men. 

The cultivation of the religious feeling, above noted, among 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 277 



the savages, has been at times a convenient policy with some 
of the more knowing traders ; who have derived great credit 
and influence among them by being considered “medicine 
men that is, men gifted with mysterious knowledge. This 
feeling is also at times played upon by rehgious charlatans, 
who are to be found in savage as well as civilized life. One of 
these was noted by Wyeth, during his sojourn among the 
Flatheads. A new great man, says he, is rising in the camp, 
who aims at power and sway. He covers his designs under 
the ample cloak of religion; inciflcating some new doctrines 
and ceremonials among those who are more simple than him- 
self. He has already made proselytes of one fifth of the camp ; 
beginning by working on the women, the children, and the 
weak-minded. His followers are all dancing on the plain, to 
their own vocal music. The more knowing ones of the tribe 
look on and laugh ; thinking it all too foolish to do harm ; but 
they will soon find that women, children, and fools, form a 
large majority of every community, and they will have, event- 
ually, to follow the new light, or be considered among the 
profane. As soon as a preacher or pseudo prophet of the kind 
gets followers enough, he either takes command of the tribe, or 
branches off and sets up for an independent chief and “ medi- 
cine man.” 



CHAPTEE XLVI. 

SCARCITY IN THE CAMP— REFUSAL OF SUPPLIES BY THE HUDSON’S 
BAY COMPANY— CONDUCT OF THE INDIANS— A HUNGRY RETREAT 
—JOHN day’s RIVER— THE BLUE MOUNTAINS— SALMON FISHING 
ON SNAKE RIVER— MESSENGERS FROM THE CROW COUNTRY- 
BEAR RIVER VALLEY— IMMENSE MIGRATION OF BUFFALO— DAN 
GER OF BUFFALO HUNTING— A WOUNDED INDIAN— EUTAW IN- 
DIANS— A “surround” of antelopes. 

Provisions were now growing scanty in the camp, and Cap- 
tain Bonneville found it necessary to seek a B*ew neighborhood. 
Taking leave, therefore, of his friends, the Skynses, he set off 
to the westward, and, crossing a low range of mountains, en- 
camped on the head-waters of the Ottolais. Being now within 
thirty miles of Fort Wallah- Wallah, the trading post of the Hud- 
son’s Bay Company, he sent a small detachment of men thither 



278 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



to purchase corn for the subsistence of his party. The men were 
well received at the fort ; but all supphes for their camp were 
peremptorily refused. Tempting offers were made them, how- 
ever, if they would leave their present employ, and enter into 
the service of the company ; but they were not to be seduced. 

When Captain Bonneville saw his messengers return empty- 
handed, he ordered an instant move, for there was imminent 
danger of famine. He pushed forward down the course of the 
Ottolais, which runs diagonal to the Columbia, and falls into it 
about fifty miles below the Wallah- Wallah. His route lay 
through a beautiful undulating country, covered with horses 
belonging to the Skynses, who sent them there for pasturage. 

On reaching the Columbia, Captain Bonneville hoped to open 
a trade with the natives, for fish and other provisions, but to 
his surprise they kept aloof, and even hid themselves on his 
approach. He soon discovered that they were under the influ- 
ence of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who had forbidden them 
to trade, or hold any communion with him. He proceeded 
along the Columbia, but it was everywhere the same ; not an 
article of provisions was to be obtained from the natives, and 
he was at length obliged to kill a couple of his horses to sustain 
his famishing people. He now came to a halt, and consulted 
what was to be done. The broad and beautiful Columbia lay 
before them, smooth and unrufiled as a mirror ; a little more 
journeying would take them to its lower region; to the noble 
valley of the Wallamut, their projected winter quarters. To 
advance under present circumstances would be to court starva- 
tion. The resources of the country were locked against them, 
by the influence of a jealous and powerful monopoly. If they 
reached the Wallamut, they could scarcely hope to obtain suf- 
ficient supplies for the winter ; if they lingered any longer in 
the country the snows would gather upon the mountains and 
cut off their retreat. By hastening their return, they would be 
able to reach the Blue Mountains just in time to find the elk, 
the deer, and the bighorn ; and after they had supplied them- 
selves with provisions, they might push through the mountains 
before they were entirely blocked up by snow. Influenced by 
these considerations. Captain Bonneville reluctantly turned his 
back a second time on the Columbia, and set off for the Blue 
Mountains. He took his course up John Day’s Eiver, so called 
from one of the hunters in the original Astoiiah enterprise. 
As famine was at his heels, he travelled fast, and reached the 
mountains by the 1st of October. He entered by the opening 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 279 



Hiadeby John Day’s Eiver ; it was a rugged and difficult defile, 
but he and his men had become accustomed to hard scrambles oi 
the kind. Fortunately, the September rains had extinguished 
the fires which recently spread over these regions; and the 
mountains, no longer wrapped in smoke, now revealed all their 
grandeur and subhmity to the eye. 

They were disappointed in their expectation of finding abun- 
dant game in the mountains ; large bands of the natives had 
passed through, returning from their fishing expeditions, and 
had driven all the game before them. It was only now and then 
that the hunters could bring in sufficient to keep the party 
from starvation. 

To add to their distress, they mistook their route, and wan- 
dered for ten days among high and bald hills of clay. At 
length, after much perplexity, they made their way to the 
banks of Snake Eiver, following the course of which, they were 
sure to reach their place of destination. 

It was the 20th of October when they found themselves once 
more upon this noted stream. The Shoshokoes, whom they 
had met with in such scanty munbers on their journey down 
the river, now absolutely thronged its banks to profit by the 
abundance of salmon, and lay up a stock for winter provisions. 
Scaffolds were everywhere erected, and immense quantities of 
fish drying upon them. At this season of the year, however, 
the salmon are extremely poor, and the travellers needed their 
keen sauce of hunger to give them a relish. 

In some places the shores were completely covered with a 
stratum of dead salmon, exhausted in ascending the river, or 
destroyed at the falls; the fetid odor of which tainted the 
air. 

It was not until the travellers reached the head- waters of the 
Portneuf that they really found themselves in a region of 
abundance. Here the buffalo were in immense herds ; and here 
they remained for three days, slaying and cooking, and feast- 
ing, and indemnifying themselves by an enormous carnivai, 
for a long and hungry Lent. Their horses, too, found good 
pasturage, and enjoyed a little rest after a severe spell of hard 
travelling. 

During this period, two horsemen arrived at the camp, who 
proved to be messengers sent express for supplies from Mon- 
tero’s party ; which had been sent to beat up the Crow country 
and the Black Hills, and to winter on the Arkansas. They re- 
ported that all was well with the party, but that they had not 



280 ADVENTURES QF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



been able to accomplish the whole of their mission, and were 
still in the Crow country, where they should remain imtil 
joined by Captain Bonneville in the spring. The captain re- 
tainecl the messengers with him imtil the 17th of November, 
wnen, having reached the caches on Bear River, and procured 
thence the required supphes, he sent them back to their party; 
appointing a rendezvous toward the last of June following, on 
the forks of Wind River valley, in the Crow country. 

He now remained several days encamped near the caches, 
and having discovered a small band of Shoshonies in his neigh- 
borhood, purchased from them lodges, furs, and other articles 
of winter comfort, and arranged with them to encamp together 
during the winter. 

The place designed by the captain for the wintering ground 
was on the upper part of Bear River, some distance off. He 
delayed approaching it as long as possible, in order to avoid 
driving off the buffalo, which would be needed for winter pro- 
visions. He accordingly moved forward but slowly, merely as 
the want of game and grass obliged him to shift his position. 
The weather had already become extremely cold, and the snow 
lay to a considerable depth. To enable the horses to carry as 
much dried meat as possible, he caused a cache to be made, in 
which all the baggage that could be spared was deposited. 
This done, the party continued to move slowly toward their 
winter quarters. 

They were not doomed, however, to suffer from scarcity 
during the present winter. The people upon Snake River 
having chased off the buffalo before the snow had become 
deep, immense herds now came trooping over the mountains ; 
forming dark masses on their sides, from which their deep- 
mouthed bellowing sounded like the low peals and mutterings 
from a gathering thunder-cloud. In effect, the cloud broke, 
and down came the torrent thundering into the valley. It is 
utterly impossible, according to Captain Bonneville, to convey 
an idea of the effect produced by the sight of such countless 
throngs of animals of such bulk and spirit, all rushing forward 
as if swept on by a whirlwind. 

The long privation which the travellers had suffered gave 
uncommon ardor to their present hunting. One of the Indians 
attached to the party, finding himself on horseback in the 
midst of the buffaloes, without either rifie, or bow and arrows, 
dashed after a fine cow that was passing close by him, and 
plunged his knife mto her side with such lucky aim as to bring 



AhVENTUlUm OF CAPTAIN B0NNFV2LLE, 281 



hei to the ground. It was a daring deed; but hunger had 
made him almost desperate. 

The buffaloes are sometimes tenacious of , life, and must be 
wounded in particular parts. A ball striking the shagged 
frontlet of a bull produces no other effect than a toss of the 
head and greater exasperation ; on the contrary, a ball strik- 
ing the forehead of a cow is fatal. Several instances occurred 
during this great hunting bout, of bulls fighting furiously after 
having received mortal wounds. Wyeth, also, was witness to 
an instance of the kind while encamped with Indians. Dur- 
ing a grand hunt of the buffalo, one of the Indians pressed a 
bull so closely that the animal turned suddenly on him. His 
horse stopped short, or started back, and threw him. Before 
he could rise the bull rushed furiously upon him, and gored 
him in the chest so that his breath came out at the aperture. 
He was conveyed back to the camp, and his wound was 
dressed. Giving himself up for slain, he called round him 
his friends, and made his wiU by word of mouth. It was 
something like a death chant, and at the end of every sen- 
tence those around responded in concord. He appeared no 
ways intimidated by the approach of death. “ I think,” adds 
Wyeth, ‘‘the Indians die better than the white men; perhaps, 
from having less fear about the future.” 

The buffalo may be approached very near, if the hunter 
keeps to the leeward; but they are quick of scent, and will 
take the alarm and move off from a party of hunters to the 
windward, even when two miles distant. 

The vast herds which had poured down into the Bear Elver 
valley were now snow-bound, and remained in the neighbor- 
hood of the camp throughout the winter. This furnished the 
trappers and their Indian friends a perpetual carnival; so 
that, to slay and eat seemed to be the main occupations of 
the day. It is astonishing what loads of meat it requires to 
cope with the appetite of a hunting camp. 

The ravens and wolves soon came in for their share of the 
good cheer. These constant attendants of the hunter gathered 
in vast numbers as the v/inter advanced. They might be com- 
pletely out of sight, but at the report of a gun, flights of ravens 
would immediately be seen hovering in the air, no one knew 
whence they came; while the sharp visages of the wolves 
would peep down from the brow of every hill, waiting for the 
hunter’s departure to pounce upon the carcass. 

Beside the buffaloes, there were other neighbors snow-bound 



282 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 



in the valley, whose presence did not promise to be so advan* 
tageous. This was a band of Eutaw Indians who were en- 
camped higher up on the river. They are a poor tribe that, in 
a scale of the various tribes inhabiting these regions, would 
rank between the Shoshoni’es and the Shoshokoes or Root Dig- 
gers; though more bold and warlike than the latter. They 
have but few rifles among them, and are generally armed with 
bows and arrows. 

As this band and the Shoshonies were at deadly feud, on ac- 
count of old grievances, and as neither party stood in awe of 
the other, it was feared some bloody scenes might ensue. Cap- 
tain Bonneville, therefore, undertook the office of pacificator, 
and sent to the Eutaw chiefs, inviting them to a friendly 
smoke, in order to bring about a reconciliation. His invita- 
tion was proudly declined ; whereupon he went to them in per- 
son, and succeeded in effecting a suspension of hostilities until 
the chiefs of the two tribes could meet in council. The braves 
of the two rival camps sullenly acquiesced in the arrangement. 
They would take their seats upon the hill tops, and w^atch their 
quondam enemies hunting the buffalo in the plain below, and 
evidently repine that their hands were tied up from a skir- 
mish. The worthy captain however, succeeded in carrying 
through his benevolent mediation. The chiefs met ; the amica- 
ble pipe was smoked, the hatchet buried, and peace formally 
proclaimed. After this, both camps united and mingled in 
social intercourse. Private quarrels, however, would occa- 
sionally occur in hunting, about the division of the game, and 
blows would sometimes be exchanged over the carcass of a 
buffalo ; but the chiefs wisely took no notice of these individual 
brawls. 

One day the scouts, who had been ranging the hills, brought 
news of several large herds of antelopes in a small valley at no 
great distance. This produced a sensation among the Indians, 
for both tribes were in ragged condition, and sadly in want of 
those shirts made of the skin of the antelope. It was deter- 
mined to have “ a surround,” as the mode of hunting that ani 
mal is called. Everything now assumed an air of mystic so- 
lemnity and importance. The chiefs prepared their medicines 
or charms each according to his own method, or fancied inspi 
ration, generally with the compound of ceiiiain simples ; others 
consulted the entrails of animals which they had sacrificed, 
and thence drew favorable auguries. After much grave smolc- 
ing and deliberating it was at length proclaimed that all who 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 283 



were able to lift a club, man, woman, or child, should muster 
for “the surround.” When all had congregated, they moved 
in rude procession to the nearest point of the valley in question, 
and there halted. Another course of smoking and deliberating, 
of which the Indians are so fond, took place among the chiefs. 
Directions were then issued for the horsemen to make a circuit 
of about seven miles, so as to encompass the herd. When this 
vas done, the whole mounted force dashed off simultaneously, 
at full speed, shouting and yelling at the top of their voices, 
in a short space of time the antelopes, started from their 
hiding-places, came bounding from all points into the valley. 
The riders, now gradually contracting their circle, brought 
them nearer and nearer to the spot where the senior chief, sur- 
rounded by the elders, male and female, were seated in super- 
vision of the chase. The antelopes, nearly exhausted with 
fatigue and fright, and bewildered by perpetual whooping, 
made no effort to break through the ring of the hunters, but 
ran round in small circles, until man, woman, and child beat 
them down with bludgeons. Such is the nature of that species 
of antelope hunting, technically called “a surroimd.” 



CHAPTER XLVn. 

A FESTIVE WINTER — CONVERSION OP THE SHOSHONIES —VISIT OF 
TWO FREE TRAPPERS— GAYETY IN THE CAMP— A TOUCH OF 
THE TENDER PASSION— THE RECLAIMED SQUAW— AN INDIAN FINE 
LADY— AN ELOPEMENT — A PURSUIT— MARKET VALUE OF A BAD 
WIFE. 

1 

Game continued to abound throughout the winter, and the 
camp was overstocked with provisions. Beef and venison, 
humps and haimches, buffalo tongues and marrow-bones, were 
constantly cooking at every fire ; and the whole atmosphere 
was redolent with the savory fumes of roast meat. It was, in- 
deed, a continual “feast of fat things, ’’and though there might 
be a lack of “ wine upon the lees,” yet we have shown that a 
substitute was occasionally to be found in honey and alcohol. 

Both the Shoshonies and the Eutaws conducted themselves 
with great propriety. It is true, they now and then filched a 
few trifles from their good friends, the Big Hearts, when their 



284 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



backs were turned; but then, they always treated them to 
their faces with the utmost deference and respect, and good- 
humoredly vied with the trappers in all kinds of feats of activ- 
ity and mirthful sports. The two tribes maintained toward 
each other, also, a friendliness of aspect which gave Captain 
Bonneville reason to hope that all past animosity was effectu' 
ally buried. 

The two rival bands, however, had not long been mingled in 
this social manner, before their ancient jealousy began to 
break out in a new form. The senior chief of the Shoshonies 
was a thinking man, and a man of observation. He had been 
among the Nez Perces, listened to their new code of morality 
and religion received from the white men, and attended their 
devotional exercises. He had observed the effect of all this, in 
elevating the tribe in the estimation of the white men; and 
determined, by the same means, to gain for his own tribe a 
superiority over their ignorant rivals, the Eutaws. He accord- 
ingly assembled his people, and promulgated among them the 
mongrel doctrines and form of worship of the Nez Perces; 
recommending the same to their adoption. The Shoshonies 
were struck with the novelty, at least, of the measure, and 
entered into it with spirit. They began to observe Sundays 
and hohdays, and to have their devotional dances, and chants, 
and other ceremonials, about which the ignorant Eutaws knew 
nothing ; while they exerted their usual competition in shoot- 
ing and horseracing, and the renowned game of hand. 

Matters were going on thus pleasantly and prosperously, in 
this motley community of white and red men, when, one 
morning, two stark free trappers, arrayed in the height of sav- 
age finery, and mounted on steeds as fine and as fiery as them- 
selves, and all jingling with hawks’ bells, came galloping, with 
whoop and halloo, into the camp. 

They were fresh from the winter encampment of the Ameri- 
can Pur Company, in the Green Piver valley ; and had come 
to pay their old comrades of Captain Bonneville’s company a 
visit. An idea may be formed from the scenes we have already 
given of conviviahty in the wilderness, of the manner in which 
these game birds were received by those of their feather in the 
camp; what feasting, what revelling, what boasting, what 
bragging, what ranting and roaring, and racing and gambhng, 
and squabbling and fighting, ensued among these boon com 
panions. Captain Bonneville, it is true, maintained always a 
certain degree of law and order in his camp, and checked each 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



286 



fierce excess ; but the trappers, in their seasons of idleness and 
relaxation require a degree of license and indulgence, to repay 
them for the long privations and almost incredible hardships of 
their periods of active service. 

In the midst of all this feasting and frolicking, a freak of the 
tender passion intervened, and wrought a complete change in 
the scene. Among the Indian beauties in the camp of the 
Eutaws and Shoshonies, the free trappers discovered two, who 
had whilom figured as their squaws. These connections fre- 
quently take place for a season, and sometimes continue for 
years, if not perpetually ; but are apt to be broken when the 
free trapper starts off, suddenly, on some distant and rough 
expedition. 

In the present instance, these wild blades were anxious to 
regain their belles ; nor were the latter loath once more to come 
under their protection. The free trapper combines, in the eye 
of an Indian girl, all that is dashing and heroic in a warrior of 
her own race — whose gait, and garb, and bravery he emulates 
— with all that is gallant and glorious in the white man. And 
then the indulgence with which he treats her, the finery in 
which he decks her out, the state in which she moves, the sway 
she enjoys over both his purse and person ; instead of being 
the drudge and slave of an Indian husband, obliged to carry 
his pack, and build his lodge, and make his fire, and bear his 
cross humors and dry blows. No ; there is no comparison in 
the eyes of an aspiring belle of the wilderness, between a free 
trapper and an Indian brave. 

"With respect to one of the parties the matter was easily ar- 
ranged. The beauty in question was a pert little Eutaw wench, 
that had been taken prisoner, in some war excursion, by a 
Shoshonie. She was readily ransomed for a few articles of 
trifling value; and forthwith figured about the camp in fine 
array, “with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes,” and 
a tossed-up coquettish air that made her the envy, admiration, 
and abhorrence of all the leathern-dressed, hard-working 
squaws of her acquaintance. 

As to the other beauty, it was quite a different matter. She 
had become the wife of a Shoshonie brave. It is true, he had 
another wife, of older date than the one in question; who, 
therefore, took command in his household, and treated his new 
spouse as a slave ; but the latter was the wife of his last fancy, 
his latest caprice ; and was precious in his eyes. All attempt 
to bargain with him, therefore, was useless ; the very proposi- 



286 VENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



tion was repulsed with anger and disdain. The spirit of the 
trapper was roused, his pride was piqued as well as his passion. 
He endeavored to prevail upon his quondam mistress to elope 
with him. His horses were fleet, the winter nights were long 
and dark, before daylight they would be beyond the reach of 
pursuit ; and once at the encampment in Green River valley, 
they might set the whole band of Shoshonies at deflance. 

The Indian girl listened and longed. Her heart yearned 
after the ease and splendor of condition of a trapper’s bride, 
and throbbed to be freed from the capricious control of the 
premier squaw ; but she dreaded the failure of the plan, and 
the fury of a Shoshonie husband. They parted; the Indian 
girl in tears, and the madcap trapper more mad than ever, 
with his thwarted passion. 

Their interviews had, probably, been detected, and the jeal- 
ousy of the Shoshonie brave aroused : a clamor of angry voices 
was heard in his lodge, with the sound of blows, and of female 
weeping and lamenting. At night, as the trapper lay tossing 
on his pallet, a soft voice whispered at the door of his lodge. 
His mistress stood trembling before him. She was ready to 
follow whithersoever he should lead. 

In an instant he was up and out. He had two prime horses, 
sure and swift of foot, and of great wind. With stealthy quiet, 
they were brought up and saddled ; and in a few moments he 
and his prize were careering over the snow, with which the 
whole country was covered. In the eagerness of escape, they 
had made no provision for their journey; days must elapse be- 
fore they could reach their haven of safety, and mountains 
and prairies be traversed, wrapped in all the desolation of 
winter. For the present, however, they thought of nothing 
but flight ; urging their horses forward over the dreary wastes, 
and fancying, in the howling of every blast, they heard the 
yell of the pursuer. 

At early dawn, the Shoshonie became aware of his loss. 
Mounting his swiftest horse, he set off in hot pursuit. He soon 
found the trail of the fugitives, and spurred on in hopes of 
overtaking them. The winds, however, which swept the val- 
ley, had drifted the light snow into the prints made by the 
horses’ hoofs. In a little while he lost all trace of them, and 
was completely thrown out of the chase. He knew, however, 
the situation of the camp toward which they were bound, and 
a direct course through the mountains, by wliich he might 
arrive there sooner than the fugitives. Through the most 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 287 

rugged defiles, therefore, he urged his course by day and night, 
scarce pausing until he reached the camp. It was some time 
before the fugitives made their appearance. Six days had 
they been traversing the wintry wilds. They came, haggard 
with hunger and fatigue, and their horses faltering under them. 
The first object that met their eyes on entering the camp was 
the Shoshonie brave. He rushed, knife in hand, to plunge it 
m the heart that had proved false to him. The trapper threw 
himself before the cowering form of his mistress, and, exhaust- 
ed as he was, prepared for a deadly struggle. The Shoshonie 
paused. His habitual awe of the white man checked his arm; 
the trapper’s friends crowded to the spot, and arrested him. 
A parley ensued. A kind of crim. con, adjudication took place ; 
such as frequently occurs in civilized life. A couple of horses 
were declared to be a fair compensation for the loss of a woman 
who had previously lost her heart ; with this, the Shoshonie 
brave was fain to pacify his passion. He returned to Captain 
Bonneville’s camp, somewhat crestfallen, it is true ; but parried 
the officious condolements of his friends by observing that two 
good horses were very good pay for one bad wife. 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

BREAKING UP OF WINTER QUARTERS— MOVE TO GREEN RIVER— 
A TRAPPER AND HIS RIFLE--AN ARRIVAL IN CAMP— A FREE 
TRAPPER AND HIS SQUAW IN DISTRESS— STORY OF A BLACK- 
FOOT BELLE. 

The winter was now breaking up, the snows were melted 
from the hills, and from the lower parts of the mountains, and 
the time for decamping had arrived. Captain Bonneville dis- 
patched a party to the caches, who brought away all the effects 
concealed there, and on the 1st of April (1835), the camp was 
broken up, and every one on the move. The white men and 
their allies, the Eutaws and Shoshonies, parted with many re- 
grets and sincere expressions of good-will; for their inter- 
course throughout the winter had been of the most friendly 
kind. 

Captain Bonneville and his party passed by Ham’s Fork, 
and reached the Colorado, or Green River, without accident, 



288 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



on the banks of which they remained during the residue of the 
spring. During this time, they were conscious that a band of 
hostile Indians were hovering about their vicinity, watching 
for an opportunity to slay or steal ; but the vigilant precau- 
tions of Captain Bonneville baffled ail their manoeuvres. In 
such dangerous times, the experienced mountaineer is never 
without his rifle even in camp. On going froin lodge to lodge 
to visit his comrades, be takes it Avith him. On seating him- 
self in a lodge, he lays it beside him, ready to be snatched up ; 
when he goes out, he takes it up as regularly as a citizen would 
his walking-staff. His rifle is his constant friend and protector. 

On the 10th of June, the party were a little to the east of 
the Wind River Mountains, Avhere they halted for a time in 
excellent pasturage, to give their horses a chance to recruit 
their strength for a long journey ; for it was Captain Bonne- 
ville’s intention to shape his course to the settlements ; having 
already been detained by the complication of his duties, and by 
various losses and impediments, far beyond the time specified 
in his leave of absence. 

While the party was thus reposing in the neighborhood of 
the Wind River Mountains, a solitary free trapper rode one 
day into the camp, and accosted Captain Bonneville. He be- 
longed, he said, to a party of thirty hunters, who had just 
passed through the neighborhood, but whom he had aban- 
doned in consequence of their ill treatment of a brother 
trapper; whom they had cast off from their party, and left 
with his bag and baggage, and an Indian Avife into the 
bargain, in the midst of a desolate prairie. The horseman 
gave a piteous account of the situation of this helpless pair, 
and sohcited the loan of horses to bring them and their effects 
to the camp. 

The captain Avas not a man to refuse assistance to any one 
in distress, especially when there was a woman in the case ; 
horses were immediately dispatched, Avith an escort, to aid the 
unfortunate couple. The next day they made their appear- 
ance Avith all their effects ; the man, a stalwart mountaineer, 
Avith a peculiarly game look ; the woman, a young Blackfoot 
beauty, arraved in the trappings and trinketry of a free 
trapper’s bride. 

Finding the Avoman to be quick-witted and communicative. 
Captain Bonneville entered into conversation with her, and 
obtained from her many particulars concerning the habits and 
customs of her tribe; especially their wars and huntings. 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 289 

They pride themselves upon being the *"best legs of the 
mountains,” and hunt the buffalo on foot. This is done in 
spring time, when the frosts have thawed and the ground is 
soft. The heavy buffalo then sink over their hoofs at every 
step, and are easily overtaken by the Blackfeet, whose fleet 
steps press lightly on the surface. It is said, however, that 
the buffalo on the Pacific side of the Eocky Mountains are 
fleeter and more active than on the Atlantic side ; those upon 
the plains of the Columbia can scarcely be overtaken by a 
horse that would outstrip the same animal in the neighbor- 
hood of the Platte, the usual hunting ground of the Blackfeet. 
In the course of further conversation. Captain Bonneville 
drew from the Indian woman her whole story ; which gave a 
picture of savage life, and of the drudgery and hardships to 
which an Indian wife is subject. 

“ I was the wife,” said she, “of a Biackfoot warrior, and I 
served him faithfully. Who was so wen served as he? 
Whose lodge was so well provided, or kept so clean? I 
brought wood in the morning, and placed water always at 
hand. I watched for his coming; and he found his meat 
cooked and ready. If he rose to go forth, there was nothing 
to delay him. I searched the thought that was in his heart, 
to save him the trouble of speaking. When I went abroad on 
errands for him, the chiefs and warriors smiled upon me, and 
the young braves spoke soft things, in secret; but my feet were 
in the straight path, and my eyes cculd see nothing but him. 

“When he went out to hunt, or to war, who aided to equip 
liim, but I? When he returned, I met him at the door; I took 
his gun ; and he entered without further thought. While he 
sat and smoked, I unloaded his horses; tied them to the 
stakes, brought in their loads, and was quickly at his feet. If 
his moccasins were wet I took them off and put on others 
which were dry and warm. I dressed all the skins he had 
taken in the chase. He could never say to me, why is it not 
done? He hunted the deer, the antelope, and the buffalo, and 
he watched for the enemy. Everything else was done by me. 
When our people moved their camp, he mounted his horse 
and rode away ; free as though he had fallen from the skies. 
He had nothing to do with the labor of the camp ; it was I 
that packed the horses and led them on the journey. When 
we halted in the evening, and he sat with the other braves and 
smoked, it was I that pitched his lodge ; and when he came to 
eat and sleep, his supper and his bed were ready. 



290 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 



“I served him faithfully; and what was my reward? A 
cloud was always on his brow, and sharp hghtning on his 
tongue. I was his dog; and not his wife. 

Who was it that scarred and bruised me? It was he. My 
brother saw how I was treated. His heart was big for me. 
He begged me to leave my tyrant and fly. Where could I go? 
If retaken, who would protect me? My brother was not a 
chief; he could not save me from blows and wounds, perhaps 
death. At length I was persuaded. I followed my brother 
from the village. He pointed away to the Nez Perces, and bade 
me go and hve in peace Cwinong them. W e parted. On the third 
day I saw the lodges of the Nez Perces before me. I paused 
for a moment, and had no heart to go on; but my horse 
neighed, and I took it as a good sign, and suffered him to 
gallop forward. In a little while I was in the midst of the 
lodges. As I sat silent on my horse, the people gathered 
round me, and inquired whence I came. I told my story. A 
chief now wrapped his blanket close around him, and bade me 
dismount. I obeyed. He took my horse to lead him away* 
My heart grew small within me. I felt, on parting with my 
horse, as if my last friend was gone. I had no words, and my 
eyes were dry. As he led off my horse a young brave stepped 
forward. ‘Are you a chief of the people?’ cried he. ‘Do we 
listen to you in council, and follow you in battle? Behold! a 
stranger flies to our camp from the dogs of Blackfeet, and asks 
protection. Let shame cover your face! The stranger is a 
woman, and alone. If she were a warrior, or had a warrior 
by her side, your heart would not be big enough to take her 
horse. But he is yours. By the right of war you may claim 
him ; but look ! ’ — his bow was drawn, and the arrow ready ! — 
‘you never shall cross his back ! ’ The arrow pierced the heart 
of the horse, and he fell dead. 

“ An old woman said she would be my mother. She led me 
to her lodge; my heart was thawed by her kindness, and 
my eyes burst forth with tears ; like the frozen fountains in 
springtime. She never changed; but as the days passed 
away, was still a mother to me. The people were loud in 
praise of the young brave, and the] chief was ashamed. I 
lived in peace. 

“A party of trappers came to the village, and one of them 
took me for his wife. This is he. I am very happy ; he treats 
me with kindness, and I have taught him the language of my 
people. As we were travelling this way, some of the Black 



ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 291 



feet warriors beset us, and carried off the horses of the party, 
We followed, and my husband held a parley with them. The 
guns were laid down, and the pipe was lighted ; but some of 
the white men attempted to seize the horses by force, and 
then a battle began. The snow was deep ; the white men sank 
into it at every step ; but the red men, with their snow-shoes, 
passed over the surface like birds, and drove off many of the 
horses in sight of their owners. With those that remained we 
resumed our journey. At length words took place between 
the leader of the party and my husband. He took away our 
horses, which had escaped in the battle, and turned us from 
his camp. My husband had one good friend among the 
trappers. That is he (pointing to the man who had asked 
assistance for them). He is a good man. IL’s heart is big. 
When he came in from hunting, and found that we had been 
driven away, he gave up all his wages, and lollowed us, that 
he might speak good words for us to the white captain.” 



CHAPTER XLIX. 

RENDEZVOUS AT WIND RIVER— CAMPAIGN OF MONTERO AND HIS 
BRIGADE IN THE CROW COUNTRY — WARS BETWEEN THE 
CROWS AND BLACKFEET— DEATH OF ARAPOOISH— BLACKFEET 
LURKERS— SAGACITY OF THE HORSE — DEPENDENCE OF THE 
HUNTER ON HIS HORSE— RETURN TO THE SETTLEMENTS. 

On the 22d of June Captain Bonneville raised his camp, 
and moved to the forks of Wind River; the appointed place of 
rendezvous. In a few days he was joined there by the 
brigade of Montero, which had been sent, in the preceding 
year, to beat up the Crow country, and afterward proceed to 
the Arkansas. Montero had followed the early part of his 
instructions ; after trapping upon some of the upper streams, 
he proceeded to Powder River. Here he fell in with the Crow 
villages or bands, who treated him with unusual kindness, 
and prevailed upon him to take up his winter quarters among 
them. 

The Crows at that time were struggling almost for existence 
with their old enemies, the Blackf eet ; who, in the past year, 
had picked off the flower of their warriors in various engage- 



292 ADVEl^TURES OF GAFT AIN BONNEVILLE, 



ments, and among the rest, Arapooish, the friend of the white 
men. That sagacious and magnanimous chief had beheld, 
with grief, the ravages which war was making in his tribe, 
and that it was declining in force, and must eventually be 
destroyed unless some signal blow could be struck to retrieve 
its fortunes. In a pitched battle of the two tribes, he made a 
speech to his warriors, urging them to set everything at 
hazard in one furious charge ; which done, he led the v/ay into 
the thickest of the foe. He was soon separated from his men, 
and fell covered with wounds, but his self-devotion was not in 
vain. The Blackf eet were defeated ; and from that time the 
Crows plucked up fresh heart, and were frequently successful, 

Montero had not been long encamped among them, when he 
discovered that the Blackfeet were hovering about the neigh- 
borhood. One day the hunters came galloping into the camp, 
and proclaimed that a band of the enemy was at hand. The 
Crows flew to arms, leaped on their horses, and dashed out in 
squadrons in pursuit. They overtook the retreating enemy in 
the midst of a plain. A desperate fight ensued. The Crows 
had the advantage of numbers, and of fighting on horseback. 
The greater part of the Blackfeet were slain ; the remnant took 
shelter in a close thicket of willows, where the horse could not 
enter; whence they plied their bows vigorously. 

The Crows drew off out of bow-shot, and endeavored, by 
taunts and bravadoes, to draw the warriors out of their 
retreat. A few of the best mounted among them rode apart 
from the rest. One of their number then advanced alone, with 
that martial air and equestrian grace for which the tribe is 
noted. When within an arrow’s flight of the thicket, he 
loosened his rein, urged his horse to full speed, threw his body 
on the opposite side, so as to hang by but one leg, and present 
no mark to the foe ; in this way he swept along in front of the 
thicket, launching his arrows from under the neck of his 
steed. Then regaining his seat in the saddle, he wheeled 
round and returned whooping and scoffing to his companions, 
who received him with yells of applause. 

Another and another horseman repeated this exploit; but 
the Blackfeet were not to be taunted out of their safe shelter. 
The victors feared to drive desperate men to extremities, so 
they forbore to attempt the thicket. Toward night they gave 
over the attack, and returned all-glorious with the scalps of 
the slain. Then came on the usual feasts and triumphs ; the 
scalp-dance of warriors round the ghastly trophies, and all 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 29g 



the other fierce revelry of barbarous warfare. When the 
braves had finished with the scalps, they were, as usual, given 
up to the women and children, and made the objects of new 
parades and dances. They were then treasured up as invalu- 
able trophies and decorations by the braves who had won 
them. 

It is worthy of note, that the scalp of a white man, either 
through policy or fear, is treated with more charity than that 
of an Indian. The warrior who won it is entitled to his 
triumph if he demands it. In such case, the war party alone 
dance round the scalp. It is then taken down, and the shag- 
ged frontlet of a buffalo substituted in its place, and aban- 
doned to the triumphs and insults of the million. 

To avoid being involved in these guerillas, as well as to 
escape from the extremely social intercourse of the Crows, 
which began to be oppressive, Montero moved to the distance 
of several miles from their camps, and there formed a winter 
cantonment of huts. He now maintained a vigilant watch at 
night. Their horses, which were turned loose to graze during 
the day, under heedful eyes, were brought in at night, and 
shut up in strong pens, built of large logs of cotton-wood. 
The snows, during a portion of the winter, were so deep that 
the poor animals could find but little sustenance. Here and 
there a tuft of grass would peer above the snow; but they 
were in general driven to browse the twigs and tender 
branches of the trees. When they were turned out in the 
morning, the first moments of freedom from the confinement 
of the pen were spent in frisking and gambolling. This done, 
they went soberly and sadly to work, to glean their scanty 
subsistence for the day. In the meantime the men stripped 
the bark of the cotton-wood tree for the evening fodder. As 
the poor horses would return toward night, with sluggish and 
dispirited air, the moment they saw their owners approaching 
them with blankets filled with cotton-wood bark, their whole 
demeanor underwent a change. A universal neighing and 
capering took place; they would rush forward, smell to the 
blankets, paw the earth, snort, whinny and prance round 
with head and tail erect, until the blankets were opened, and 
the welcome provender spread before them. These evidences 
of intelligence and gladness were frequently recounted by the 
trappers as proving the sagacity of the animal. 

These veteran rovers of the mountains look upon their 
horses as in some respects gifted with almost human intellect. 



294 ADVENTURES OE CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 

An old and experienced trapper, when mounting guard upon 
the camp in dark nights and times of peril, gives heedful 
attention to all the sounds and signs of the horses. No enemy 
enters nor approaches the camp without attracting their 
notice, and their movements not only give a vague alarm, bui 
it is said, will even indicate to the knowing trapper the very 
quarter whence the danger threatens. 

In the daytime, too, while a hunter is engaged on the 
prairie, cutting up the deer or buffalo he has slain, he depends 
upon his faithful horse as a sentinel. The sagacious animai 
sees and smells all round him, and by his starting and whinny- 
ing, gives notice of the approach of strangers. There seems to 
be a dumb communion and fellowship, a sort of fraternal sym- 
pathy between the hunter and his horse. They mutually rely 
upon each other for company and protection ; and nothing is 
more difficult, it is said, than to surprise an experienced hun- 
ter on the prairie, while his old and favorite steed is at his side. 

Montero had not long removed his camp from the vicinity of 
the Crows, and fixed himself in his new quarters, when the 
Blackfeet marauders discovered his cantonment, and began to 
haunt the vicinity. He kept up a vigilant watch, however, 
and foiled every attempt of the enemy, who, at length, seemed 
to have given up in despair, and abandoned the neighborhood. 
The trappers relaxed their vigilance, therefore, and one night, 
after a day of severe labor, no guards were posted, and the 
whole camp was soon asleep. Toward midnight, however, the 
lightest sleepers were roused by the trampling of noofs; and, 
giving the alarm, the whole party were immediately on their 
legs and hastened to the pens. The bars were down; but no 
enemy was to be seen or heard, and the Horses being all found 
hard by, it was supposed the bars had been left down through 
negligence. All were once more asleep, when, in about an 
hour there was a second alarm, and it was discovered that 
several horses were missing. The rest .were moimted, and so 
spirited a pursuit took place, that eighteen of the number 
carried off were regained, and but three remained in pos- 
session of the enemy. Traps for wolves, had been set about 
the camp the preceding day. In the morning it was dis- 
covered that a Blackf oot was entrapped by one of them, but 
had succeeded in dragging it off. His trail was followed for a 
long distance, which he must have limped alone. At length 
he appeared to have fallen in with some of his comrades, who 
had relieved him from his painful incumbrance. ' 



ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 295 



These were the leading incidents of Montero’s campaign in 
the Crow country. The united parties now celebrated the 4th 
of July, in rough hunters’ style, with hearty conviviality; 
after which Captain Bonneville made his final arrangements. 
Leaving Montero with a brigade of trappers to open another 
campaign, he put himself at the head of the residue of his 
men, and set off on his return to civilized life. We shaU not 
detail his journey along the course of the Nebraska, and so, 
from point to point of the wilderness, until he and his band 
reached the frontier settlements on the 22d of August. 

Here, according to his own account, his cavalcade might 
have been taken for a procession of tatterdemalion savages ; 
for the men were ragged almost to nakedness, and had con- 
tracted a wildness of aspect during three years of wandering 
in the wilderness. A few hours in a populous town, however, 
produced a magical metamorphosis. Hats of the most ample 
brim and longest nap ; coats with buttons that shone like mir- 
rors, and pantaloons of the most ample plenitude, took place 
of the well-worn trapper’s equipments ; and the happy wearers 
might be seen strolling about in all directions, scattering their 
silver like sailors just from a cruise. 

The worthy captain, however, seems by no means to have 
shared the excitement of his men, on finding himself once 
more in the thronged resorts of civilized life, but, on the con- 
trary, to have looked back to the wilderness with regret. 
“Though the prospect,” says he, “of once more tasting the 
blessings of peaceful society, and passing days and nights 
under the calm guardianship of the laws, was not without its 
attractions ; yet to those of us whose whole lives had been spent 
in the stirring excitement and perpetual watchfulness of ad- 
ventures in the wilderness, the change was far from promising 
an increase of that contentment and inward satisfaction most 
conducive to happiness. He who, like myself, has roved al- 
most from boyhood among the children of the forest, and over 
the unfurrowed plains and rugged heights of the western 
wastes, will not be startled to learn, that notwithstanding all 
the fascinations of the world on this civilized side of the moun- 
tains, I would fain make my bow to the splendors and gayeties 
of the metropolis, and plunge again amid the hardships and 
perils of the wilderness.” 

We have only to add that the affairs of the captain have 
been satisfactorily arranged with the War Department, and 
that he is actually in service at Fort Gibson, on our western 



296 ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE. 

frontier, where we hope he may meet with further oppor- 
tunities of indulging his peculiar tastes, and of collecting 
graphic and characteristic details of the great western wilds 
and their motley inhabitants. 



We here close our picturings of the Rocky Mountains and 
their wild inhabitants, and of the wild life that prevails there; 
which we have been anxious to fix on record, because we are 
aware that this singular state of things is full of mutation, 
and must soon undergo great changes, if not entirely pass 
awayi The fur trade itself, which has given life to all this 
portraiture, is essentially evanescent. Rival parties of trap- 
pers soon exhaust the streams, especially when competition 
renders them heedless and wasteful of the beaver. The fur- 
bearing animals extinct, a complete change will come over the 
scene ; the gay free trapper and his steed, decked out in wild 
array, and tinkling with bells and trinketry ; the savage war 
chief, plumed and painted and ever on the prowl ; the traders’ 
cavalcade, winding through defiles or over naked plains, with 
the stealthy war party lurking on its trail ; the buffalo chase, 
the hunting camp, the mad carouse in the midst of danger, 
the night attack, the stampado, the scamper, the fierce skir- 
mish among rocks and cliffs — all this romance of savage life, 
which yet exists among the mountains, will then exist but in 
frontier story, and seem like the fictions of chivalry or fairy 
tale. 

Some new system of things, or rather some new modifica- 
tion, will succeed among the roving people of this vast wilder- 
ness ; but just as opposite, perhaps, to the inhabitants of civili- 
zation. The great Chippewyan chain of mountains, and the 
sandy and volcanic plains which extend on either side, are 
represented as incapable of cultivation. The pasturage which 
prevails there during a certain portion of the year, soon 
withers under the aridity of the atmosphere, and leaves noth- 
ing but dreary wastes. An immense belt of rocky mountains 
and volcanic plains, several hundred miles in width, must ever 
remain an irreclaimable wilderness, intervening between the 
abodes of civilization, and affording a last refuge to the 
Indian. Here roving tribes of hunters^ living in tents or 
lodges, and following the migrations of the game, may lead a 
life of savage independence, where there is nothing to tempt 
the cupidity of the white man. The amalgamation of various 



ADVENTUllKS OK CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE, 297 



tribes, and of white men of every nation, will in time produce 
hybrid races like the mountain Tartars of the Caucasus. 
Possessed as they are of immense droves of horses, should 
they continue their present predatory and warlike habits, 
they may in time become a scourge to the civilized frontiers 
on either side of the mountains, as they are at present a ter- 
ror to the traveller and trader. 

The facts disclosed in the present work clearly manifest the 
policy of establishing military posts and a mounted force to 
protect our traders in their journeys across the great western 
wilds, and of pushing the outposts into the very heart of the 
singular wilderness we have laid open, so as to maintain some 
degree of sway over the country, and to put an end to the kind 
of '‘blackmail,” levied on all occasions by the savage “chivalry 
of the mountains.” 



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